


Maylor One-Shots

by SevenSeasOfSigh



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Cross posted on Wattpad, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Maybe angst, Maylor - Freeform, Mostly Fluff, Pining, ideas too short to be full fics, lots of gay, prompts and ideas welcome through tumblr dms, sick fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2020-11-07 21:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenSeasOfSigh/pseuds/SevenSeasOfSigh
Summary: A ‘little’ collection of Maylor one shots!





	1. The Sound Of the Rain

Tour life wasn't easy.

It was their first tour, opening for a band called Mott the Hoople and they were just getting a taste of the rockstar life. Freddie and Roger were making the absolute most of it, while John seemed to just go with the flow. And as for Brian, well...

It wasn't that Brian hated it, but he didn't particularly love every aspect of it. All the food was of the meat variety, tour bus was cramped, and there were too many wild parties.

Brian grew tired of said parties faster than he'd like to admit, soon finding himself in the corner of the bar or hidden away in an arm chair waiting for his bandmates to either leave with him or take someone home before finally getting to leave.

He didn't know which was worse. Waiting or watching?

Brian wasn't interested in one night stands, his heart was too big for something so minuscule and meaningless. Every time, he'd feel terrible afterwards. It wasn't the person he wanted. He didn't love them. Brian was a hopeless romantic, falling in love to him was something that came as natural as rain.

It started off slow, but before he knew it, it was a torrential down pour.

That's exactly how he ended up in his hotel room all alone in the middle of a concert afterparty. He couldn't stand to see the one he loved being touched and groped all night with the angelic smile on his face. So he got up from his chair and abandoned the party without so much of a goodbye.

It was mid-summer, somewhere on the American east-coast. The view outside his window was that of the city skyline, the lights illuminating the small hotel room. He watched water droplets roll down the glass, a crash of thunder filling his ears before he heard a small yelp outside his door.

"Bri?.." He heads a quiet voice call through the wooden door, followed by hurried knocks. "Please let me in..."

Brian quickly made his way to the door, opening it and opening his mouth to ask the blond what he was doing outside his door.

His question was interrupted by a pair of arms being thrown around him, a soaked body pressing against him. He could feel the erratic heartbeat in the younger man's chest.

"I didn't see you leave... You didn't say anything." Roger sniffled, his breathing quickening. "I-I looked everywhere for you, I didn't know where you were and-"

"I'm okay, Rog. Did you need something?" Brian cleared his throat, frowning down at him.

"I don't like thunderstorms..." Roger admitted quietly. "Well, I don't like to be alone in them."

"You're soaked."

"I was out looking for you." Roger looked up at him, his eyes red and puffy. "I thought something happened. You never just leave like that. You didn't tell anyone!" He worked himself up again, pressing his face into Brian's chest and inhaling the smell that was just so...Brian.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find you, Fred, or Deaky. I would've told you if I had seen you." Brian hesitantly patted the younger man's back.

"It's okay, Bri, I was just worried." Roger pulled away to smile up at him, but the loud crash of thunder caused him to cling back onto the taller man.

"I'm okay. Now let's get you into some dry clothes, you're shivering." Brian peeled him off with a chuckle, going into his suitcase and pulling out one of hisCbigger t-shirts and sweatpants before handing them to the younger man.

Roger slipped into the bathroom, peeling off the wet clothes and hanging them in the shower to drip-dry before putting on the borrowed clothes. They were already baggy on Brian, but the shirt fell down to just above his knee. The pants went past his feet and splayed out on the floor, but were slightly tight at the hip and bum region.

He was absolutely adorable, his hair messy and his eyes dropping a bit from the long night they've had. His cheeks were tinged pink from the warmth of the hotel room, though he didn't complain.

Brian smiled at him when he emerged from the bathroom, his heart fluttering when the smaller man huddled close to him once more.

"I just find thunderstorms to be rather frightening." He said quietly. "They knock out the power and I don't like being alone in the dark."

"Rog, there's nothing to be afraid of. The powers still on and it's only thunder." Brian shuffled over to the glass door, leading out to a small balcony.

"And lightning!" Roger swallowed. "It's scary."

"It's not scary, it's calming. Come on, listen with me." Brian smiled, opening the glass door and stepping out on the balcony, pulling the hesitant blond with him.

"Listen to what?" Roger frowned, pressing further into the taller man.

"The sounds of the rain." Brian replied, wrapping an arm around the shorter man.

Roger leaned his head on Brian's shoulder, listening to the soft pattering of raindrops on the pavement below and the roof above them. He breathed in the air and felt the serenity surround him.

"It's calming isn't it?" Brian looked down at him, a soft smile on his face.

"It is." Roger smiled, his mind focusing on the warm arm around him. "I don't feel scared anymore, I've never stopped to listen. I usually try to drown it out, just try to ignore it until it stops."

"You shouldn't just ignore the things you're scared of." Brian said thoughtfully, watching the lightning light up the evening sky.

"Are you scared of anything, Bri?"

Brian looked down at him, marveled at how innocent the younger man seemed in that moment.

"Yeah, a lot." He admitted, biting at his lip.

"But you've faced all of the fears?" Roger pressed further, his eyes searching Brian's.

"No, not all of them." Brian cleared his throat. "There's one I haven't."

"And what's that? Maybe I can help, since you helped me." Roger smiled softly. "I quite like the sound of the rain. Maybe you'll like whatever yours is too."

"Oh, I already love him." Brian said absentmindedly, his eyes still focused on the steady fall of rain in front of him.

"Him?"

Brian's breath hitched, dropping his arm from around Roger's shoulders. He hadn't meant to say it aloud! He hadn't meant to say it at all.

"Brian, who?" Roger stared up at him, his eyes glistening in the soft glow of the city lights. There was no disgust, no anger, just...sadness?

"That's what I'm afraid of. I can't tell...him." Brian bit his lip, his hands shaking at his sides.

"Then tell me." Roger tilted his head. "You can trust me, Bri."

"It's you."

It was hardly above a whisper, the words he croaked out. His throat clenched uncomfortably and he felt like he might cry, tears already stinging in his hazel eyes.

"You love me?" Roger breathed, his eyes wide as he stared up the the older man.

"I'm sorry, Rog." Brian said quickly, a quiet sob escaping his lips. "God, I'm so sorry..."

"Bri..." Roger stepped closer, reaching a hand out as Brian cover his face with his hands.

"I've ruined everything, Roger." Brian cried, his palms filling with the hot, salty tears. "I shouldn't have-"

Roger took his hands in his own, looking up at the crying man with tears in his own eyes.

And he was smiling.

It was a delicate smile, like a breeze on a crisp autumn day. It stretched softly across Roger's flushed face, a small tear cascading down his cheek.

"I hate seeing you cry, Brian." He said, squeezing his hand gently. "Please look at me."

Brian brought his eyes up to meet the ones he's adored for the past six years. The ones he's dreamt about since they first met, all those years ago. The ones that stole his heart and captivated his soul.

The eyes that were bluer than the Tenerife Sea.

"Don't apologize, Brian." Roger spoke again, his voice soft like silk as he raised his hands to cup the taller man's cheeks. He cradled his face with such tenderness that it was as if he'd crumble as the slightest touch.

"I ruined our friendship..." Brian sniffled, his eyes locked into Roger's.

The latter shook his, a soft smile on his lips.

"You didn't ruin shit, Bri." Roger used his thumbs to wipe away stray tears.

"What?" Brian blinked down at him. "But I-"

"I love you too." Roger said softly, pulling Brian down and pressing their foreheads together. "I love you like the sounds of the rain. Like thunder and lightning, it's scary, but it's worth it if you just...look past the parts that scare you and see the beauty and serenity that you've showed me. I love you, Brian. And I never want to be the reason you cry again." A few tears slipped down his cheeks, his eyes never leaving the hazel ones mere centimeters away from his own.

Brian's hands moved up to mirror Roger's, cupping the younger man's face and letting their lips brush together before their eyes fell shut. With a swift movement, Roger captured the taller man's lips. It began gently, slowly moving together before falling into the pit of passion.

Roger's hands found the thick curls atop Brian's head, his fingers getting tangled up on the dark locks as the latter arms fell to wrap around Roger's waist, pulling him flush against himself.

They separated after a few short moments, soft pants filling the air. All was quiet, besides the sounds of the cars below.

And the sound of the rain, fresh on the pavement.


	2. Wrong Number, Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian tries his new amp to find it doesn’t work, leading him to call the company to file a complaint. When he dials the wrong number, he gets much more than he bargained for. Not that he’d complain.

Nothing was more frustrating than faulty products. Especially expensive ones.

Seventeen year old, Brian Harold May, sat in front of his new amplifier with his handmade guitar perched in his lap. He fiddled with the knobs, adjusting the settings but to no avail, nothing worked.

The amp was shit.

Brian heaved a sigh, putting the Red Special back on her stand before trudging over to the phone. He's spent his entire three weeks allowance and one months paycheck on the damned thing only for it to not work? Fresh out the box and it was broken!

Brian felt the frustration bubbling in him as he grabbed the phone off the hook and dialed the customer support line listed in the manual.

After a few ring, his call was answered.

"Hello?" A soft, raspy voice came over the phone.

Brian swallowed, nerves bundling in his stomach at the voice. The woman's voice was airy and a bit sweet. It was beautiful, even just over the phone.

"Hello?" The voice pressed further, agitation obviously rising in them as well.

"Hello, ma'am, I'm calling because the amp I received is faulty. It doesn't work." Brian cleared his throat at the long silence that followed.

"Ma'am?" The voice was back, an offended tone now present in his voice. "Who the hell are you calling ma'am?! I'm a man!"

"Oh, sorry, my mistake. Can I be transferred to someone who can help, please?" Brian rubbed his face in embarrassment. The guys voice was so high pitched and soft! How the hell was that a man?

"You've got the wrong number, mate." The boy answered.

"Oh..."

"So, what kind of amp is it?" The voice sounded interested, a smile pulling at Brian's lips.

"Supro thunderbolt. Best of the best." Brian grinned through the phone.

"Hmm, no." The boy replied rather bluntly.

"Excuse me?"

"How is it the best of the best if it doesn't fucking work?" He chuckled. "What you need is a Fender Princeton 1965. Clean and distorted. Sounds orgasmic, I'll tell you that."

Brian couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in his chest. He didn't even feel angry about the amp anymore.

"Is that so?" Brian's smiled widened, leaning against the wall in the kitchen.

"Yeah! I just got one for my birthday last year, actually! I'm not much for guitar, mostly drums. I can do a little bass and keyboard too. My best friend is better at piano, but we both sing. But anyway, I know a good amp. One day, I'm gonna collect guitars." The younger boy began to ramble on about all the different guitars he would get.

It was strange, Brian had no idea who this kid was, but the excitement in his voice had the older boys heart soaring.

"I'm Roger, by the way."

Brian was pulled out of his thoughts by the soft introduction, his finger twisting the phone chord around.

"Brian. Brian May." He smiled, shaking his head. "Sorry for bothering you."

"Nice to meet you, Brian May. And, no. I don't mind. I wasn't doing much, just...listening to the radio." Roger chuckled a bit.

"Really? On a Saturday night?" Brian pulled a chair over to him and sat down.

"Yeah, I mean..." The boy cleared his throat. "Besides my best friend, Freddie, it's really just only me. Radio's my only friend, you could say." He admitted quietly.

"I'll be your friend." Brian blurted out.

"You've never met me." He chuckled softly. "What if I'm horrendously ugly?"

"I highly doubt that. And even if you were, I'd like to be your friend. I like your voice." Brian blushed at his own words, sighing quietly.

"You...You do?"

"Yeah, it's...it's nice." Brian admitted.

"Well, I like yours too. It's really calm and nice." Roger chuckled softly. "I'd like to be your friend too."

"Roger! Supper is ready! Get off the phone! Who are you talking to?" Brian heard a gruff voice in the background.

"My friend, dad. Just one more minute and I'll be off!" Roger practically begged.

"Alright, kiddo, tell Freddie I said hi." His father chuckled before his voice disappeared again.

"Sorry, Brian May, I gotta go." Roger sounded disappointed. "Sorry for racking up your phone bill."

"I don't mind, Roger." Brian chuckled at him repeating his full name again. "Um, maybe we could...talk again?"

"Really?" His smile radiated through the phone and, soon enough, Brian was smiling too.

"Yeah, really." Brian chuckled. "My phone number is 020 7946 0800."

"Right, got it." The sound of a pen scratching against paper echoed through the phone. "Erm, so we don't get absolutely slaughtered by our parents for raising the phone bill...would you like to exchange letters some time?"

"I'd love that." Brian smiled softly.

"Alright, well, my address is 19 Clyde Rd, Brighton, BN1 4NN." Roger spoke in a hushed voice. "I'll call you soon, Brian May." He said, his smile evident in his voice.

"I'll write you soon." Brian promised, a smile of his own on his face.

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

Brian hung up the phone and leaned his head back, chuckles bubbling up in his chest.

It was nice to have a new friend.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Three months had passed, they'd agreed on having weekly calls as to stay in touch. Alone with calls, they had letters.

Roger considered sending a picture of himself, but he was nervous. What if Brian didn't like the way he looked? What if he thought he looked too girly?

What if he could tell he was gay?

'No, that's ridiculous.' He thought to himself, shaking his head. 'How could he tell from a picture?'

"Clare, do I look gay?" He looked at his sister, who was half asleep on the couch.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're supposed to say no!!" Roger screeched, pulling at his hair. "Oh god."

"Wait, what was the question?" Clare blinked, sitting up with a yawn.

"Do I look gay?" Roger looked at her with a small frown

"Oh, yeah."

"Ugh!" Roger rolled his eyes, turning around and stomping upstairs.

Clare shrugged, laying back down and falling asleep as the echoes of Roger screaming into his pillow filled the house.

Silly boy.

Roger sat by the phone, waiting for the call as he wrote his letter. His mother was just happy he had a friend, his father didn't notice much, and his sister...well, she was already picking out the wedding venue.

He took a deep breath, staring down at the picture before shoving it back in his drawer and sealing the envelope.

"What if he thinks I'm ugly..." Roger shoved his face in his pillow again, sighing heavily. "What if he stops talking to me when he finds out that I'm-"

His musings were quickly interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Roger quickly got up and ran to get the hall phone, pulling the cord into his bedroom.

"I'm just going to tell him. I've got to." Roger mutter to himself.

"Hey, Bri." He attempted to sound calm. "What's new?"

"Hey, Rog!" Roger loved the way he always sounded so excited to talk to him, even after all those months. "I actually have a bit of news I want to tell you!"

"Really? Me too..." Roger felt the nerves bundling up in the pit of his stomach. "You first."

"Okay!" Brian cleared his throat. "I, um, I asked a girl out today. She said yes! Her name's Chrissie and she's absolutely perfect." The older boy gushed.

"O-Oh."

His stomach dropped, twisting uncomfortably as tears prickled in his eyes. He felt all of the air get knocked from his lungs at the words.

He felt heartbroken.

"Rog?" Brian asked cautiously. "You okay?"

"Huh? Sorry, that's amazing, Brian." Roger sniffled quietly, though he was sure Brian heard. "She's a lucky girl. I'm... I'm really happy for you, Bri."

"Thanks." Brian's voice was filled with uncertainty. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm great, Brian. Absolutely perfect." Roger swallowed.

"So... What was your news?" Brian changed the subject, realizing Roger wasn't up for discussing what was wrong.

"Oh, uh, nothing too big. Got the new Beatles record." Roger lied with a small shrug. "I-I gotta go, Bri. I'll talk to you next week."

"Rog-"

"Bye."

Roger slammed the phone down on the hook, running back to his bedroom and shutting the door. He pressed his back against the wooden door, sliding down slowly and covering his face with his hands.

Everything hurt.

His heart hurt.

At first, the sobs were silent. Nothing but tears and the soft shaking of his shoulder, but soon enough, he struggled to keep the volume of his crying down. As the minutes passed, the heart wrenching cries raised in volume. He got up, throwing himself onto his bed and cried.

Brian deserved to be happy, of course he did. He was always kind, always smart, and always perfect. Of course he deserved happiness.

But was it so wrong to hope that he could make him happy?

"Roger? Dear, your friend is on the phone." His mother called through the door before opening it, her heart shattering at the sight.

Roger sat on the bed, fat tears streaming down his blotchy cheeks. His lip was poked out slightly in a small pout and his hair was mussed about. She saw how red the whites of his eyes had gotten, the blue nearly glowing with the contrast.

His bottom lip trembled upon seeing his mother in the doorway. He quickly got up and wrapped his arms around his mother and sniffled softly.

"What happened?" She asked softly.

"My...the girl I like, she...she doesn't feel the same." He lied, burying his face in the older woman's neck.

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry, baby." She said, stroking his hair back. "It'll be okay. I'm going to go make you some cocoa and we'll go watch a movie downstairs. You can tell me all about it, or not, if you don't want to."

"Thanks, mum." Roger sniffled, looking down at her as she wiped away his tears.

"Of course, baby." She smiled softly. "Here, talk to Brian. He's worried."

Roger cursed himself. Brian probably heard everything he'd just said.

Hesitantly, he took the phone from his mothers hands. She gave him a knowing look before disappearing downstairs.

Fuck, if she knew.

"H-Hey, Bri. You're gonna rack up the phone bill." He attempted to joke.

"I don't care. Rog, are you okay? You sound upset." Brian's voice was filled with concern. "Something about a girl not liking you back? Forget her, Rog. She's dumb for not liking you. You're talented and amazing."

"You hardly know me." Roger sniffled.

"I know enough." Brian said firmly. "She's the loser in the end, Rog. She doesn't get you. Anyone to get you should consider themselves lucky."

His words were so sincere. They were so warm, like a fresh spring day. But they stung like the first ice of winter. Soft and sweet, yet bitter and painful.

They hurt, but they made his heart flutter.

If only he knew.

If only he wanted him the same way Roger wanted him.

"I'll get over it soon enough, Bri. I just... I got my hopes up when I shouldn't have." Roger sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'll talk to you next week. I'm sending my letter tomorrow before school."

"Can't wait to read it." Brian smiled, Roger could tell just by the tone of his voice.

"Goodnight, Bri." Roger chuckled softly, though the tears were still swimming in his eyes.

"Night, Roggie. Just remember that you deserve so much better than that girl. You're absolutely amazing." Brian said before the line went dead.

Roger shut his eyes tightly, his stomach flipping uncomfortably as he took a shaky breath.

He was in love.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You made your own guitar, that's amazing! Who cares what they say?" Roger scoffed, laying on his stomach on his bed and kicking his feet in the air behind him.

"They called me poor."

"Are you?" Roger frowned.

"I mean, my family isn't exactly wealthy." Brian sighed, picking at the phone cord.

"Fuck them. It doesn't matter how much money you've got, you built your own guitar. And you probably play a thousand times better than any of those shit heads." Roger rolled his eyes. "Don't listen to them, Bri. You're incredible."

"What if I'm horrendously hideous?" Brian joked.

"I'd still think the same. My mind never changes." Roger chuckled.

It'd been over three years since Brian called the wrong number. Two hundred and some calls and seventy-two letters later, they got on just as they did three years ago to the day.

"It's been three years today." Brian said softly, a smile set on his face.

"You would keep track of that, Brian May." Roger chuckled. "Happy phone-iversary, Bri."

"Happy phone-iversary." Brian grinned.

"Oh, another reason I called is because I have some news." Roger cleared his throat.

"What kind of news?" Brian asked hesitantly.

"Well, I got a letter in the post today and... I got accepted into the Barts and The London School of Medicine and Dentistry!" Roger all but squealed into the phone. "I'm moving to London, Bri!!"

"Oh my god, really?!" Brian beamed, jumping up from his chair. "I knew you'd get in, Rog! This is incredible!"

"And it's only about a forty minute ride in the tube to you! Brian, we can finally meet!" Roger felt happy tears forming in his eyes at the mere thought.

"I can't believe it... After three years, I can finally see the face I've been talking to for three years!" Brian chuckled.

Roger smiled widely, sighing happily as he rolled over to lay on his back. "Just one more month, Brimi, then we can really be together."

"I can't wait." Brian blushed at the nickname. His word choice sounded as if they'd be together together.

If only.

"So..." Roger cleared his throat. "How's Chrissie?"

"Oh, um..."

"That doesn't sound good. Did you get her pregnant?" Roger asked quickly.

"She broke up with me." Brian sighed.

"When?" Roger questioned further. "I'll get Clare to kick her ass. Or I'll dress up as a lady and kick her ass."

"Well, actually... I broke up with her." He admitted sheepishly.

"What? Why?" Roger frowned. As far as he knew, they were pretty serious. As much as it tore him apart, he knew Brian was happy and that was enough for him.

At least, he thought Brian was happy.

"Well, she mentioned marriage and moving in together and... I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life with her. So rather than leading her on to nothing, or marrying her and being miserable... I ended it." Brian explained, clicking his pen.

"Damn, Bri." Roger bit his lip, trying to push away the excitement bubbling in his chest.

"Yeah, it's for the best. I didn't really love her. She was great and all but she wasn't..." Brian cleared his throat, pausing his words. "She wasn't the one."

"I'm really sorry, Bri."

He wasn't really, but he was sorry that Brian was hurt. Though, he didn't seem too upset.

"When did you do it?" He asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Erm...three months ago..." Brian muttered quietly.

"What?! You broke up with her three fucking months ago?! And you didn't tell me?!" 

"You never asked?" Brian chuckled nervously.

"The fuck was I supposed to ask? Hey, Bri, dump the bird yet? No!!" Roger leaned back in his chair. "I tell you every little detail in my romantic life."

"A bit too many when you're drunk." Brian rolled his eyes.

"Hey, you never tell me to stop!" He argued.

"I've told you to stop a thousand times actually." Brian chuckled. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm over her, I have been for a while now."

"I guess it's good you're broken up then."

"Guess it is..."

Silence settled over both lines, unspoken words filling the tension.

"My lease is almost up. At the end of the month." Brian said quietly, nervousness tinging his voice.

"Um, renew it?" Roger snorted.

"No, uh..." He heard him sighed loudly on the other end.

"What?" Roger questioned.

"What if we...got a place together? I mean, we can find a flat halfway to your school and halfway to mine and-"

"I'd love to." Roger interrupted him, a smile stretching across his face.

"Great."

It was amazing how easy Brian could brighten his day.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was the night before the big move. Small town boy moving to the big city, far from home.

He couldn't be more thrilled.

Roger zipped up his last bag and set it by the door. The moving trucks would be there by five-thirty and Roger planned to leave on the tube by seven.

Then he could meet Brian at the flat by noon.

His heart was racing. He'd finally get to meet his love for the first time. His entire stomach was knotted up with nerves, the fluttering cramps had him feeling nauseous and happy all at once.

The phone didn't even finish it first ring before Roger picked up.

"Brian?"

"Hey, Rog. How's packing going?"

"Just finished the last bag." Roger smiled widely, his heart pounding at the sound of his voice.

"I just finished unpacking the telly. The couch, table, and chairs are all set up. It looks nice." Brian's voice was calm, though it was tinged with nerves.

"I can't wait to see it." Roger grinned.

"I can't wait to see you." Brian shot back.

If Roger didn't already know Brian was straight, he'd think he was maybe, possibly flirting with him.

"Bet you won't be happy when you see my ugly ass." Roger joked.

"You are not ugly." Brian snorted.

"You're right, I'm not." The younger boy laughed, twirling the cord around his finger.

"Hey, um, I wanted to tell you something..." Brian's hesitation was back.

"You can tell me anything, Bri." Roger swallowed. He didn't know if he could handle if Brian got another girlfriend.

"Well, it's important you know this before you move in." Brian chewed his lip. "And promise you won't hate me."

"Brian, you could murder me and I wouldn't hate you." Roger deadpanned.

"Uh, good to know?" Brian laughed, shaking his head. "No, it's serious, Rog."

"I promise I'll still love you after you tell me." Roger leaned back, waiting for Brian to tell him. He frowned when he was faced with silence.

"You...You love me?" Brian asked hesitantly.

"Oh, fuck." Roger nearly dropped the phone. "I-I gotta go-"

"Wait! Stop! Please..." Brian begged through the phone.

"Can we forget this? I-I mean..." Roger sucked in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. "We're moving in together. I don't want to make things...weird."

"I don't want to forget it." Brian said softly. "Granted, I didn't plan to have this conversation over the phone, it's now or never."

"What are you saying, Bri?" Rogers hands were shaking, gripping the phone tightly in his hands.

"Roger, I love you too." Brian chuckled. "I was about to tell you that I'm bi, but then you beat me to it with a better confession!"

"Holy shit, you do?"

He couldn't believe it. After three years, pining and wishing and dreaming, Brian loved him.

He loved him.

"Holy shit, I do." Brian laughed. "This is definitely going to be interesting tomorrow. I can't wait to finally see you."

"I'm leaving today."

"Wait, what?" Brian chuckled. "Are you serious?"

"I've waited three years, Bri, I can't bear any longer." Roger bit his lip, standing up from his bed.

"I'll see you soon, Rog." Brian smiled softly.

"That you will." Roger grinned before hanging up and grabbing his bags and running downstairs.

"Rog?" Winifred stepped out of the kitchen and looked at him curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Mum, I'm gay." Roger dropped his bags and grinned at her.

"Roger, we know." Michael called from his armchair, not even looking up from his paper.

"We did, sweetie." Winifred giggles a bit. "But we're glad you and Brian are moving in together."

"Finally have a normal phone bill." Michael joked, smiling up at him from his paper.

"Clare, did you know?" Roger looked to his little sister, who was sitting cross legged on the couch, studying.

"Obviously." She snorted, grinning over at him. "But it's nice to have our suspicions confirmed."

Roger blinked at them before grinning widely. "Well, thanks. I'm leaving now. Since you all still love me, could you pack up the moving truck tomorrow?"

"Of course, dear." Winifred rolled her eyes. "Consider it another birthday present."

"Thanks, mum." Roger hugged the small woman and kissed her cheek, moving to do the same to his father and sister before going to the door. "I'll call tomorrow!"

"Bye!" The chorused, smiling as he disappeared out the door.

"Twenty quid." Clare put out her hand, watching as her parents reluctantly put the money in her hand. "New he would come out the night before he was supposed to leave."

"I lost last year, Clare." Michael sighed, going back to his paper.

"I thought it would take a month after living together for him to confess." Winifred sighed.

"Losers." Clare joked, pecking their cheeks. "Love you!"

Both of her parents grunted, rolling their eyes as she giggled.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Maybe he should've waited.

He was half asleep on the tube out to London, his eyes feeling heavy before he gave in to the drowsiness that filled his body.

Brian loved him.

His dreams were vibrant yellows and pinks, happiness swarming around him.

Happiness.

It was so close, just within a small reach.

Just one more hour, then they'd be together. For real. Roger couldn't contain his excitement.

He also couldn't keep his bloody eyes open, fast asleep in the middle of the damn tube.

He woke up to an older woman shaking him.

"It's your stop, dear." She smiled, pointing out the window.

"Holy shit." He muttered, rubbing his eyes and standing up. He grabbed his bag and stood up, muttering a polite 'thank you' to the woman before walking out into the station.

With a shaky breath, he walked out onto the London streets. He was quite a few blocks away from the flat, and it was nearing midnight at that point, so he decided to grab a taxi.

Climbing into the car, he unfolded the slip of paper with the address and slipped it to the man, watching as he read it and began driving once more.

Three years of waiting, wanting, and wishing, it was finally coming true. He was finally going to meet the man who stole his heart. Meet the voice that calmed every fit of anger, cheered up every bit of sadness, and filled every void Roger never even knew he had.

Three years, and no he was parked outside the flat with sweaty palms and a pounding heart.

As Brian said, it was now or never.

Roger pulled out a few bills and handed them to the driver before grabbing his bags and walking into the building. He climbed the stairs steadily, biting his lip with nerves.

Would Brian like the way he looked? The way his voice sounded in person? Would he like...him?

His mind raced as he stood outside the door of flat number 137, though a smile creeped up on his face when he noticed the welcome mat embroidered with an “RMT and BHM” and a small wreath hung on the door decorated with drumsticks and guitar picks.

Fuck, Brian was adorable.

With a deep breath, he raised his fist to the door and knocked. After a few moments, he heard the soft ‘click’ of the lock and the door swung open.

Roger’s eyes were wide as he stared up at the tall man smiling down at him.

“Wow, you’re gorgeous.” Brian said softly.

“Ditto.” Roger’s face turned up into a smirk. “I like your Afro.”

“I’m growing it out.” Brian chuckled and touched his hair. “Won’t be Afro-y for long.”

Roger stepped closer, hesitantly reaching up and touching his hair. “It’s pretty. I like the curls.”

“I never thought you were blond.” Brian grinned, touching the younger boy’s hair as well. It was soft as silk, albeit naturally messy. But god, was that not beautiful.

“Oh, do I sound brunette?” Roger chuckled, dropping his hand from his hair onto his shoulder.

“You sound perfect.” Brian smiled, lowering his hand to grasp Roger’s. “Your eyes... God, you’re even more stunning than I thought, Rog.”

“You really think so?” Roger blushed, a soft smile on his lips.

“I know so.” Brian chuckled, bringing Roger’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss against the back. “Beautiful.”

Roger felt himself melt into the touch, the longing for Brian’s lips to be on his own grew to be almost to much to take. He stepped closer, gently pushing him into the flat before shutting the door behind him.

“I love you.” Roger breathed, his hand resting on Brian’s chest.

Brian smiled adoringly down at him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I love you too, Rog.”

Roger lurched up and crashed their lips together, trying to keep from smiling to widely against his mouth.

Brian’s hands dropped and moved around his waist, pulling him close and breathing him in. It felt as if the world that had been grey his whole life was melting away into vivid colors all around. Sounds were clearer, life was brighter.

Everything was complete.

Roger pulled away, pressing their foreheads together with a sweet smile.

“Thank god for wrong numbers.”


	3. Take Care of Those You Call Your Own

At 2am on a random Saturday night, an eighth wonder of the world was discovered. Roger was sure each and every scientist would be raving at the moment at the sight seldom seen before.

That sight was an absolutely shit-face Brian May.

"I'm not drunk."

Roger chuckled at the slurred words coming from his boyfriend, grabbing his arm and hooking it around his shoulders as the walked out of the pub.

"What in the hell did Freddie do to you, Bri?" Roger didn't expect an actual answer as he already knew the frontman had slipped him more drinks than he usually had, shaking his head in amusement as the older man gasped.

"Rog-Roger!" Brian's eyes were wide, staring down at the blond as he led him through the empty streets towards their flat. He came to a complete stop, his eyes never leaving the drummers face.

"Yes, Brimi?" Roger looked up at him expectantly, tilting his head as Brian's face became more serious. The older man leaned closer to Roger, a concentrated furrow of his eyebrows etched into his face before he poked Roger nose and broke into a large grin.

"Boop." He giggled. "My cute little Roggie."

Roger laughed, pushing the older man's hand away before making him walk again. He wanted nothing more than to get his tall ass boyfriend to bed and get his weight of his body. Brian was definitely heavier than he looked, especially as a deadweight.

"Hi." Brian grinned, popping his face in front of Roger's.

"Hi." Roger greeted back, smiling to himself. He'd never expect Brian to be a cute drunk. He'd expected him to be a rambling, lecturing drunk. Not a giggling and affectionate drunk as he'd let show that night.

"I just realized..." Brian hiccuped, a small giggle escaping his lips. "Why your name rhymes with the word 'beautiful'..."

Roger bit his lip, suppressing the laugh that so desperately wanted to escape at his boyfriend (albeit incorrect) innocent drunken musings.

"And why's that, Brimi?" Roger grinned up at him, watching his glazed over eyes shine brightly in the dim streetlamp lit streets.

"Because you," Brian poked his nose again, eliciting a chuckle from the blond, "are so beautiful. Like a shiny star, or the moon, or um... you're beautiful like a flower." The older man gushed, Rogers cheeks flushing as the funny, but still quite sweet words pouring from the inebriated man.

"Thank you, love." Roger chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I think you're beautiful like a flower too."

"Hmm." Brian hummed, leaning onto the smaller man as the approached their flat. Roger quickly unlocked the door and helped him inside when he stopped with a shocked look on his face.

"Are you alright?" Roger questioned, waiting patiently for him to explain his shock and what seemed like excitement on his face.

"We," He pointed to himself before poking Roger's chest. "Should go get matching tattoos. Or married."

"We can talk about that in the morning, babe." Roger chuckled, patting his cheek though his heart fluttered at his second suggestion. "Let's go brush your teeth."

"They don't have hair, Roger." Brian stared down at him, as if Roger was the one to say something ridiculous.

"Let's go...scrub and clean your teeth." Roger sighed, leading his stumbling boyfriend to the bathroom and watching as he sat on the edge of the tub. "Bri, on the toilet, you're going to-"

As if on command, the older man leaned back and slipped into the tub before erupting in giggles.

"I fell, Roggie!" He gave the blond a goofy grin that somehow made Roger love him even more.

"I see. Are you okay?" Roger leaned over and helped him out of the tub before setting him down on the closed toilet.

"Im doing fine." Brian grinned, grabbing onto Roger's shirt and pulling him down to kiss his cheek. "Can you clean my teeth, Mr. Dentist?"

"I'm not a dentist." Roger snorted, swatting his hand away so he could grab the toothbrush. He rinsed the bristles before squeezing out a bit of the blue and white paste onto them. 

"My favorite dentist." Brian giggled, leaning over to grab at Roger.

Roger shook his head and stepped back over to the giggling man, resting a hand on his head for leverage. "Open wide."

"That's what I say to you." Brian smirked up at him, earning an eye roll from the blond.

"Shush and open your mouth." Roger held back his laugh as the older finally opened his mouth. He began brushing his teeth, then helping him lean over and spit into the sink. "Stick your tongue out, Bri." He said after a couple minutes.

The older man complied, immediately letting his tongue hang flaccidly from his mouth.

"I remember why I quit dental school now." Roger cringed, brushing his boyfriends tongue away of any left over food and liquor. He never wanted to see his partners tongue this up close and personal.

Handing him a glass of water, Brian swished and spit into the tub, much to Rogers confusion since the sink was much closer. He was just happy he didn't spit on the floor.

After wiping his face with a washcloth, Roger hoisted his boyfriend up and lead him to the bedroom. Brian tried to immediately get into bed, but the blond pulled him back.

"Take off your clothes and shoes." Roger said, turning to retrieve some pajamas for them both. After finding two comfortable pairs, Roger turned around to see the guitarist tangled up in his own shirt and had to stifle a laugh. "Here, let me help you." He said, walking up to him and lifting the shirt over his head.

"Thank you." Brian smiled, reaching down and unbuttoning his trousers before letting them fall to the floor. He let Roger slip the t-shirt over his head and used the drummer for stability as he stepped into his pajama pants.

Roger smiled softly at him before lowering him down in bed and draping the covers over him. Pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead before running out of the room to grab all the 'morning after' essentials, including a bucket, glass of water, and bottle of Paracetamol to place by Brian's bedside.

By the time he'd placed all the items and climbed into bed, he'd assumed the older man had fallen asleep. He was proven wrong when he was met with a pair of dazzling hazel eyes.

"I love you." Brian whispered softly, pulling the blond closer to him.

"I love you too, Bri." Roger smiled, leaning into to press their lips together softly before snuggling into his side. "Goodnight."

"Hmm, goodnight." Brian yawned, letting his eyes fall shut as sleep took over his consciousness.

Roger watched him for a few moments, smiling softly as Brian’s arms held him close. It was pure bliss.

He just hoped the hangover was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one this time, I have two longer ones in the works though!
> 
> I wrote this bc I've only ever really read Brian taking care of a drunk Roger and I felt the need to switch the roles. 
> 
> Hope you all liked it! And as always, comment and let me know what you think or what you'd like to see next!
> 
> Peace ✌🏻


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by the Ed Sheeran song (not based off, basically just the title and feeling of the song), So here ya go—

Brian had stayed up nearly all night, the bags under his eyes more than enough proof of his insomniatic behavior. His mind plagued with lyrics, chords, and a certain pair of blue eyes, along with the raspy voice that haunted his conscious and subconscious alike for the past two years.

But close to 4am, his eyes began to feel heavy enough to welcome sleep with open arms. That was until a shrill noise broke him out of his near blissful state.

The phone rang wildly in the dim lighting, the groggy guitarist grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?" He answered, his voice rough with sleep as he rubbed a hand over his face.

"Hey, Bri... Did I wake you?"

The raspy voice on the other end was enough to make him sit up in bed, suppressing a yawn. It wasn't normal for Roger to call this late, or really at all unless it had to do with band rehearsal.

"No, just...working on a song." Brian pulled the phone away to let out a small yawn. "Are you alright? It's quite late."

"It's very late." Roger sighed, Brian could tell by the tone of his voice that he was upset.

"He didn't come home again?"

It was the same story, different day. Tim stayed out all night as Roger waited for him to return, but sometimes (most times) he wouldn't, likely shacking it up with some London bimbo again. Yet another reason Roger occasionally called, to see if Brian had seen Tim.

"Getting quite predictable, isn't it?" Roger huffed a humorless laugh. "It's pathetic."

"I'm sorry, Rog." Brian frowned as he heard the shakiness to his words, shaking his head. "I hadn't heard from him."

"No, I know... I was wondering if um... C-Can you come over?" The blond asked hesitantly, a small sniffle echoing through the receiver.

"I'll be there in ten."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And that was how Brian found himself walking the nearly empty London streets at 3:45am, hoping he didn't get stabbed or viscously attacked by the few people staring as he passed by.

Getting murdered just didn't fit into his schedule that week.

A shiver shot down his spine as the winter air surrounded him, the freezing breeze making his body shake as he quickened his pace towards the blonds flat.

He couldn't decide if he was shocked or relieved when he knocked on the door and was immediately pulled into the flat by a sniffling twenty-one year old boy.

"I'm sorry for making you go out in the cold, I just..." Roger swallowed, folding his arms over his stomach as he gazed at the ground. "I broke up with Tim."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I..." Roger sniffled again, wiping his teary eyes. "He left. Left the band. He said that we weren't going anywhere and that it was a waste of his time, so I ended it. I think at this point, I was only with him for the band." Roger explained, clearing his throat when he voice became hoarse. "Now I just... I don't want this to end. Me and you and the whole music thing. I think we could really be something, you know?"

Brian swallowed, the crystal blue eyes stared at him expectantly. He felt his breathing hitch when another tear slipped down his cheek. He felt happy inside at the news, albeit a bit guilty.

"Bri?"

"Yes. I mean, I don't want this to end either. It doesn't have to, Rog. We'll find someone even better than him." Brian cleared his throat, putting a hand on the shorter boys shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay? You and Tim were together for quite a few years..."

"Three years today. He forgot and took some bird home, I'd skipped classes so that I could surprise him and I came home to him fucking her on the couch." Roger tightened his arms around himself. "I just... What did I do to deserve that?"

Anger. That was Brian's initial feeling at his words. He wanted to tear Tim apart, scream at him that he threw away the best thing that could've ever happened to him. The anger melted away at his question, Rogers voice sounding so small— him looking so vulnerable. It hurt in a way Brian never knew anything could.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing, Roger. It's not your fault, it's Tim's for being such a fucking idiot that he couldn't see that he had everything with you. He threw that away, not you. The only think you deserve is someone that loves you and that see's just how amazing you are." Brian looked down at him, a serious frown upon his face. 'Someone like me.' He wanted to say, hell, he wanted to shout it. Scream it out the window, let all of London know that he loved the drummer, that he would never take him for granted like Tim did.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

"Thanks, Bri..." Roger sniffled, moving to bury his face into the older man's chest. "Can you stay tonight? I hate being here alone."

"Of course."

He didn't even mind sleeping on the two seater couch that night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After a week, he found his phone ringing again. He looked at the time and saw it was half past two and sighed before pulling himself out of bed to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Brian!" The person shouted before giggling. "Guess what?"

"What, Rog?" Brian yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" The excitement in his voice was replaced with concern.

"I mean, yeah, but I'm already awake so tell me your news." Brian chuckled a bit. He couldn't find it in him to mind being woken up by the man.

"Right, I'm drunk." Roger chuckled, the line going silent.

"...Was that it?" Brian asked, his whole body deflating as he prepared himself to hang up and just go back to sleep. He suddenly heard another voice in the background—a man's voice. His stomach twisted and he frowned. "Uh, have fun. I'll see you tomorrow..." he muttered before starting to pull the phone away from his ear.

"No! I have news! Uh, what was it again?" Roger went silent again before giggling. "Right! I found us a singer! Freddie, say hi to Brimi! He's my best friend!"

That was new, sure they'd known each other for two years and definitely considered each other friends, but best friends? Brian smiled a bit to himself, it wasn't as much as he wanted but...well, it was something.

"Hello, Brian, dear! We've met before, I run the stall with Roger." Freddie greeted, chuckling softly. "That's also not why he called."

"Uh, so why did he call?" Brian sighed, already putting his trousers on as it was likely they were stranded at a pub somewhere.

"Okay, don't be mad."

"Roger, what did you do this time?" Brian sighed, shaking his head. "Car run out of gas?"

"Erm, close. We're at the police station." Roger chuckled nervously. "Apparently, public intoxication is frowned upon in this establishment!" He imitated a posh accent, earning a hysterical laugh from Freddie and annoyed grunt from what Brian assumed was an officer.

"Christ's sake. I'll be there in ten."

And that's how Brian found himself bailing his newfound best friend and new bandmate out of jail at 3am.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"It's broken."

"You just have to change it, Rog."

It became almost normal for his phone to ring at ungodly hours. He almost expected to be woken up at 4am with a phone call from the blond, who sometimes just wanted to talk. He couldn't be mad about it if he tried, if anything, he found it quite endearing that he was part of Roger's middle of the night thoughts.

But here he was at 3:39am, talking to Roger about a burnt out lightbulb.

"I can't reach it." Roger sighed. "I have another bulb, but I...don't know how to change it."

"I'm sorry, you don't know how to change a lightbulb?!" Brian shook his head, tearing himself out of bed to throw on some clothes.

"What? Like it's easy?" He snorted. "I just need some help. Please? It's really dark..."

"I'm on my way, Rog."

Brian sighed as he hung up the phone, moving to walk back out into the still-cold London streets. Spring was among them, but damn was it still rainy and cold. He pulled his coat tighter against himself as he continued walking down the street.

Before long, he found himself at Rogers front door. He hardly got the chance to knock before he heard a shout telling him to come in. Brian shook his head in amusement before opening the door to see him sitting on the couch with two mugs and a sheepish smile on his face.

"There's no lightbulb, is there?" Brian cocked an eyebrow.

"No, I just wanted you to come over." Roger stood up and offered the mug to him, which he gladly took in his cold hands.

"You could've just asked." Brian chuckled.

"You wouldn't have come! It's so late!" Roger sighed, leaning on the wall and looking up at Brian. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Brian tilted his head, a small smile on his face. "Lying that you don't know how to twist and untwist a lightbulb?"

"No." Roger folded his arms over his chest, an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks.

"What is it, Rog?" Brian abandoned his joking tone upon seeing the seriousness on the drummers face.

"I'm sorry for always waking you up." Roger bit his lip, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"It's nothing, I don't mind." He shrugged.

"It's not nothing, I just..." Roger sighed. "I like it when you're here. I can't fall asleep alone." He admitted quietly.

"Is that why you're always calling so late?" Brian asked, stepping closer as the blond nodded sheepishly, his cheeks glowing in the lowly lit room.

"You have a very calming voice." Roger smiled up at him, though it was small and shy. Something Brian wasn't quite used to seeing on the usually bubbly and confident man.

"Do I?” Brian chuckled, mirroring the drummer and leaning against the wall beside him.

“You do.” He glanced up at him before clearing his throat. “Bri? Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.” Brian’s eyebrows rise up, watching the blond fiddle with his hands nervously. It was quite endearing to see him this way, looking so young and innocent with an air of nervousness surrounding the smaller man.

“Bri, you make everything better. Between lonely nights and getting my heart broken you’re always here for me, even at four am on random days of the week! And you never complain, you just...come and talk with me and that just means so much more than you know. No one has ever done that for me, no one has ever shown me such unconditional care like that. You’re honestly the best thing that has ever happened to me. Brian, I think I’m falling in love with you.” His voice was soft, but to Brian, it was as if it was spoken through the loudest amp he’d owned. The words rang in his ears as the smile grew on his face.

The words he’d longed to hear for so long.

“I-I’m sorry if I ruined everything, I just needed you to know.” Rogers voice was hardly a whisper, the shaking of his hands clearly visible. He finally met Brian’s eyes, his face softening when he was met with the dazzling smile.

“I must say, Rog, I fell a long time ago.” Brian said softly, taking another step towards him to close the gap between them. He cupped his cheek gently, resting his forehead on the smaller man’s. “I fell the day I met you.”

Roger smiled softly up at him, his shoulders finally relaxing at the touch of the guitarists hands. He let his eyes flutter shut just as their lips connected.

He never knew a kiss could feel this way, the warmth that took over his body was nearly overwhelming. His heart pounded in his chest, yet he felt calm. He felt as if he was finally in the place where he belonged, a place he’d been searching for, for so long only to find it was right there all along.

Roger knew that he’d found exactly what he’d been looking for, he found the love of his life. The one that would never fail him or hurt him in ways that he’d been hurt before. All because he decided to wake him up.

Upon pulling away, Brian smiled softly down at him as he pushed the blond hair out of the drummers eyes.

“I’m so glad you woke me up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel like that was super cheesy, but I’ve been in a cheesy mood so 💁🏻♀️
> 
> Hope you guys liked it!
> 
> Peace ✌🏻


	5. No Strings Attached

It wasn't a situation Roger was happy with. If anything, he hated it. No. He did hate it, he hated everything about it.

Well, _almost_ everything.

Roger hated the knock on his hotel room door, the way he sheepishly slipped in, the smirk on his face.

But most of all, he hated when Brian got up and left like it meant nothing.

It's been a year since they'd come to their '_arrangement_', as Brian called it. It felt so detached to refer to it as if it was a business deal. A quick fuck whenever they needed to blow off steam, fun at the beginning, but now? Not so much.

So when Brian slipped out of bed again, shooting a quick 'goodnight' before going back to his room, Roger was left by himself to feel nothing more than dirty and used.

Just like always.

He never meant to fall in love with the lanky guitarist, of course not! They were best friends who would sometimes, decidedly, fuck each other's brains out. A casual fling, nothing more and nothing less.

At least that's what they had intended.

The familiar stinging in his eyes came, a soft sob escaping his lips as he curled up in the bed. He felt guilty for every one night stand he'd ever walked out on. For every heart he'd ever broken, because god, it _hurt_.

He sat up in the bed, wiping his face with the back of his hand before getting up and throwing his clothes back on. He couldn't stand another second in that room, memories of the events that unfolded just thirty minutes before suffocated him. The mere thought of the meaningless words, touches, god, even the meaningless looks Brian had given him made Roger's stomach twist.

With a final glance in the mirror, and an annoyed grunt at the sight of red eyes and messy hair he was met with, Roger tore open the hotel room door and headed for the stairs. He found himself running down the stairs and straight the the hotel bar before grabbing his wallet out and putting a few bills on the counter.

"How much for a whole bottle?" Roger asked, his eyes firmly on the young bartender.

"Um, not for sale?" The younger man, glanced around nervously under Roger's hard gaze. "There's a liquor store about one block from here."

Made sense, America and their ungodly amount of liquor stores littering the streets. Not that he was complaining.

"Thanks." Roger grunted, grabbing the bills and shoving them back in his wallet before rushing out the building. He ignored the prying looks of people that he passed by, all he knew was that he needed to get drunk as soon as humanly possible.

Stumbling into the liquor store, he glanced around the shelves and settled on a reasonably sized bottle of vodka before bringing it up to the register.

"You'd think a fancy rockstar would get the more high end stuff." The cashier snorted.

"Your high end shit isn't strong enough." Roger shrugged, handing over a few bills as the man put the vodka in a bag.

"Bad night?" The man cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Let's just say that I could throw myself off a one hundred story building headfirst and land in a pile of dog shit and still have a better night than I am right now." Roger took the bag, shoving his wallet back into his pocket.

"Well, I hope it gets better. Or you at least get drunk enough to forget about it."

"That's the plan, uh," Roger squinted at the nametag on the man's shirt. "Chris."

"Good luck with that. Try not to throw yourself off any buildings." Chris chuckled.

"I'll try." Roger smirked a bit before walking out of the building and heading back towards the hotel, shoving the bottle into his coat to avoid any police officers stopping him.

After a few minutes of walking, one hand on the bottle in his jacket and the other firmly in his pocket, he stepped back into the hotel lobby. Passing by the bar, he flashed the bottle to the bartender with a devilish grin before stepping into the lift. He couldn't be bothered to take the stairs again.

It wasn't until he stood outside his hotel room that it felt hard to breathe again. The feeling of dread crashing over him again. He debated going to John or Freddie's room, but ultimately decided that getting absolutely shitfaced in front of either would lead to him blubbering like a little baby. And he was not about to let that happen, as he preferred to cry in the comfort of his own presence only.

With a sigh, he climbed the stairs up to the hotel roof, spreading out a blanket he'd stolen off a cart in the corridor and sitting on the ground. He stared up at the moon with a frown, popping the cap off the bottle and taking a swig.

"Better." He muttered to himself. Was it the best idea to get pissed the night before a long drive to a different state halfway across the country? Probably not. Did he care? Not at all.

Halfway through the bottle, he felt his cheeks getting wet. He brought a hand up to his face to find out that he'd somehow started crying in the past few minutes with realizing.

"Fuck the moon, fuck the stars, and fuck the whole fucking universe!" Roger stood up, kicking a rock to the other end of the roof. "And fuck this stupid roof! Fuck everything!"

Stumbling to the edge, he looked down at people walking by. Couples holding hands, parents doting on their children, happy people.

"Fuck them too." He felt a strong urge to throw the bottle at them, but refrained as he didn't necessarily want to deal with getting arrested tonight.

"May I ask why you're yelling at the universe? And the roof?"

Roger spun around, nearly dropping the bottle in his hands. He didn't feel drunk at all. For a quarter of a bottle of vodka, he'd thought he'd feel even just a bit buzzed, but he just felt numb. Upon seeing Brian, his thoughts sobered up even more.

"No. Go away." Roger grumbled, turning around to watch the people below once more.

"You're obviously not okay, Rog." He heard Brian sigh behind him, his footsteps vastly approaching.

"Did I say I was okay? No, I didn't. I said go away, as in, leave me the fuck alone." Roger said through gritted teeth, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. Out of every single person, Brian was the last one he wanted to see in that moment.

Brian bit his lip, moving to stand beside his best friend, facing him the best he could while examining his face. The bloodshot eyes that were filled with tears, splotchy complexion, and the all too messy hair.

"Let me help you, Rog. I just want to know what's wrong." Brian put a cautious hand on his shoulder, frowning when the drummer immediately jerked away from his touch.

"Its you. I'm done, Bri." The harsh biting tone was gone, replaced with a broken whisper. "I don't want to do this anymore. I can't do it anymore."

"What are you saying?" Brian frowned, his hands shaking with nerves. "Roger, what are you talking about?"

"Us! This...this fucking thing! The whole blowing off steam shit! I hate it! I hate everything about it!" The bottle slipped to the ground with a muted 'thunk', the clear contents pouring out onto the concrete. "It's over, Brian. I'm not doing it anymore. I-I'm not some cheap fuck, and that's all you see me as. Not a friend, certainly not a best friend. Some meaningless shag when you don't feel like finding someone else. That's not what I am, it's not what I want to be." His voice quieted down, cracking slightly every so often as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he finally turned to look at the taller man. "Please, Bri, I can't do this anymore."

"Is that really what you think?" Brian asked softly, his face filled with hurt. "That...that this means nothing to me?"

"What am I supposed to think when you get up and leave directly after! Like I'm some bird you met at a bar and drunk-fucked! Please, Brian, enlighten me. What am I supposed to think?" Roger crossed his arms over his chest, his cheeks bright red in embarrassment. He felt like a nagging wife yelling at her stupid husband. The situation didn't feel too far off from that.

"Rog-"

"Just forget it. I came up here to be alone, so just leave." Roger grumbled, his tear stained cheeks giving away his angry façade.

"No." Brian frowned. "I'm not going until you talk to me."

Roger bit his lip, hanging his head as he leaned over the railing of the roof. "Why do you even care?"

"You're my best friend, Rog. Of course I'm going to care when someone tells me that they saw you running up to the roof with a bottle of vodka." Brian sighed, looking at him with a frown. "And of course I'm going to care when you say that we're over."

"We're nothing." Roger scoffed.

"That's not true." Brian rubbed a hand over his face. "Rog, it wasn't meaningless. Not to me. Not even once. Since we first started...getting closer, it meant so much. I finally had something I had always wanted."

"You said no strings attached." Roger interrupted.

"I thought that's what you wanted." Brian countered, sighing quietly. "Rog, just listen for a minute. I want to explain."

"What's there to explain? Couldn't afford a whore so you settled for me? Or is that all the same to you?" Roger crossed his arms, turning his face away from the other man. He blamed his whiny tone on the vodka coursing through his veins despite not even being close to drunk.

"No!" Brian saw Roger flinch as his voice raised, clearing his throat he spoke softer. "I don't think of you like that. You know that's not true." He hooked a finger under the blonds chin, turning his face to meet his eyes. "Hey, look at me."

Roger swallowed thickly, looking up at him under his thick lashes. He was shocked to see the genuine look in his eyes, that Brian wasn't just trying to calm him down.

"You are so much more than that. You're my best friend, my bandmate, and the love of my life." Brian put his hand up as Roger opened his mouth to interrupt. "No, listen. This 'arrangement' we had, it drove me crazy. I'd hoped my feelings would fade if I gave in, but they didn't. Doesn't make sense why they would, but I really thought I could make them go away. But they didn't fade, they grew. So much so that I hated myself after I gave in. So much so that laying next to you hurt so much that I couldn't breathe. I got up and left because I knew you didn't feel the same. Because I thought you were only in it for the sex."

"You're an idiot." Roger said bluntly.

"Excuse me?"

Roger rolled his eyes, pressing his back against the railing as he shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I said that you're an idiot."

"I heard that, but...why?" Brian frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "I tell you I love you and you call me an idiot."

"That's because you're an idiot." Roger snorted. "You said I didn't feel the same. If I didn't feel the same, why the hell would I be up here drinking shitty vodka?"

"Because it's a nice night and you like vodka?"

"That just proves my point, idiot." Roger gave him a small smile, taking a tentative step towards him.

"So you really feel the same?" The guitarist bit his lip, looking down at him with a curious gaze.

"I really do."

Brian cautiously took his hand, squeezing it gently. He could still smell the alcohol on his breath, but ignored it with a smile.

"I want the strings, Rog. All of them. I want all of you. Not just sex, I want the mornings in bed, lying around lazily when we've got nothing better to do. I want the afternoons, walking down the street and visiting shops together just like you like to do. Driving around in your car to places we've never been every week. I want the nights, curled up on the couch watching the shitty movies on the telly, then going to bed with you in my arms all through the night. To hold you close and to have you be mine, just as I'm yours. I want you, Roger. I want you in my life forever. From right now until then day I die. I want to grow old with you. That's what I want."

"I want that too, Bri." Roger smiled softly, throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him close. His heart was beating faster than he knew was even possible. Out of everything that could've happened tonight, he surely wasn't expecting Brian to confess his love for him, again, not that he was complaining.

"Then let's do it."

Brian pulled away with a smile, dipping down to capture the younger man's lips with his own. Softly, they moved together in perfect sync. It was far from their first kiss, yet it held much more meaning than their previous ones. It held promise, love, and hope for the future.

And, god were they excited for the uncertainties to come.


	6. Talking In Your Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on the song Talking In Your Sleep by The Romantics ✌🏻

Sharing hotel rooms was nothing new to Brian. He'd shared with Freddie and John plenty of times, but as of late, he got stuck with Roger.

It wasn't that he didn't like the younger man, complete opposite if we're being honest here, but Roger had a few tendencies that Brian couldn't help but find a bit...distracting.

No, he never brought one night stands into their shared room. He did once with John, but after the earful he got from the usually timid bassist, he learned the lesson that 'I thought you were sleeping' does not help the situation.

He never tried again after that.

Brian was grateful to be on tour and to have a half decent hotel room to sleep in, but that meant that they had to share for budgetary reasons, unless they wanted a rundown motel (which Freddie would never agree to). And much to his annoyance, John and Freddie already decided to share as they've been getting closer as of late, 'volunteering' to share for the rest of the tour.

It seemed strange, but Brian didn't mention it. They both had girlfriends, he thought. But that never stopped budding rockstars before, he supposed. Regardless, it wasn't any of his business.

"Looks like we're gonna be roomies again tonight, Bri!" The blond clapped his shoulder with a bright grin. "And every night for the next five months!"

"Yeah, I guess so." Brian sighed, unlocking the hotel room.

"What's got your dick in a twist?" Roger chuckled, following after him into the room.

"Nothing, sorry." Brian sighed, setting his bag down on the bed.

"What? You don't want to share a room?" The humor was gone from his voice, Brian looked up to see a genuine frown on his face. "I'm not going to bring anyone here..."

"It's fine, Rog. Don't worry about it." Brian slipped into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door. His cheeks burns as his eyes fell shut. He needed to control himself, Roger would know something's up if Brian's face lit up like a stop light every time he got too close.

"Bri..." Roger leaned against the door, his voice sounding a bit upset. "I...I don't know if you're mad at me for some reason, but I was actually looking forward to hanging out with you tonight." The words were muffled through the door, but still managed to crush him with guilt.

"I-I'm tired tonight, Roger." Brian said quietly, biting his lip.

Roger sighed, clenching his jaw before walking away from the door. He quickly got into his pajamas before slipping into his bed, rolling on his side to face the wall.

He sniffled softly, burying his face in the pillow as he heard the shower start up.

Brian had been distant for the past few days, giving him short answers or sometimes just ignoring him. He'd like to say he took it well, not letting it get to him.

But, fuck, it hurt.

His best friend, the one he always relied on, ignored his existence. Besides rehearsals, sound checks, and concerts, Roger was practically invisible.

He fell asleep with only the comfort of his blanket and pillow, damp with tears.

After twenty minutes of moping in the shower, Brian emerged with an apology on the tip of his tongue and guilt deep in his gut. His eyes rested upon Roger's bed where he laid out, fast asleep. He swallowed and walked over to the sleeping man, frowning down at him.

"Goodnight, Rog." Brian said softly, pushing his hair out of his face.

The blond hummed quietly in his sleep, his face twisting slightly. Brian smiled slightly before moving over to his own bed before a small voice stopped him.

"I'm sorry, Bri..."

Brian spun on his heel to see the blond still sleeping soundly, yet a distressed look took over the peaceful look from before.

"Rog..." He stepped closer to the other bed.

"Don't hate me..." He mumbled, his eyes fluttering oh-so-slightly.

"I don't hate you." Brian frowned, kneeling beside the bed. "I could never hate you."

Roger curled up into a ball, snuggling his face into the pillow before sleeping soundlessly.

"Mmm, fuck off, Freddie. I won the scrabble game." The blond muttered after a few moments.

Brian stared at him before shaking his head and returning to his bed. Of course he'd known Roger talked in his sleep, mostly mumbles of incoherent things or random tidbits of what he was dreaming about. They hadn't shared a room that often, though. Even in their flat, they had separate bedrooms.

But this was the first time he'd ever heard him speak so sincerely. It broke Brian's heart to know he caused the bit pain that was so evident in his voice.

After a few more mutters, which all seemed to be related to Freddie and 'the goddamn scrabble game', the room was filled with soft snores.

Brian figured it would be best to get some rest and apologize in the morning.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time they awoke, Freddie was pounding on the door and yelling at them to hurry up.

Brian looked at the clock to find that they'd slept in way past their usual time.

"Fuck." Brian mutter, getting up quickly and moving to Rogers bed. "Rog, wake up."

"Fuck you." Roger grumbled, pushing his face further into the pillow.

"Thanks for the offer, but we're running late." Brian joked, ripping the blankets off the drummer. "Up, now."

"Hmm, I hate you." Roger huffed, getting up and stomping over to his suitcase in his typical petulant fashion.

"Yeah, yeah. Get dressed." Brian rolled his eyes, pulling a shirt over his head.

"I swear to god, are you shagging in there?!" Freddie yelled through the door.

Roger grumbled, tearing the door open and storming out with his suitcase after getting dressed, leaving Brian to sheepishly follow behind.

"What's he mad about?" Freddie frowned.

"I'm not sure, it's Roger. He's probably just mad that he had to get up." Brian sighed, closing the door. "Let's just get going, we're late enough already."

Without another word, they made their way out of the hotel and onto the bus before they set back out to their next city.

Roger was slumped against the window, his cheek pressed against the cool glass as he stared off at the roadside.

"This seat taken?" Brian asked, motioning to the seat beside the bored drummer.

"It's empty, isn't it?" Roger muttered, not even looking away from the endless stretch of nothingness out the window. The most interesting thing they've seen in the past ten miles was a few cows behind a fence.

"Did I do something?" Brian sighed, crossing his arms.

"No." Roger turned around, his face set in a scowl. "Leave me alone."

"We're sharing a room tonight, so..."

Roger rolled his eyes and turned back to the window with his arms crossed.

"Well, if you decide you want to talk about it, I'll be over here." Brian sighed, moving towards the back of the bus. He could've sworn Roger's grumpy look faltered at his words.

For the rest of the ride, Roger ignored his entire existence. It made the guitarist want to pull out his own hair!

He had to take a few calming breaths when Roger pushed past him to head into the sound check.

This was going to be a long night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On stage, the tension was gone. Merely hidden away like a deep, dark secret that would never see the light of day.

That was until Brian tried to compliment Roger on his performance, earning a grumbled "whatever".

"Okay, what the hell is your problem?" Brian closed the hotel room door, throwing his bag down on the floor and giving Roger a pointed look.

"I don't have a problem." Roger pushes past him and went into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and changing his clothes.

"What? Do you want to room with Fred? Or John?" Brian sighed, calling through the bathroom door that was slammed in his face. "You're acting like a complete arsehole, for no reason!"

"Excuse me?" Roger tore the door open and glared up at him. "Fuck you, Brian. Really, you'd think someone as smart as you would figure out who's really being the asshole here." He pushed past him again, moving toward his bed. "First, you act like you want nothing to do with me! You wouldn't talk to me or even look at me for nearly three days! Then, you act like nothing happened when I finally give up on trying to see what the hell was wrong with you! You ignored me and pretended like I didn't even exist for days. Some best friend you are, Bri." The blond scoffed.

"Rog..."

"Save it, I'm done talking to you." He huffed, climbing into his bed before covering himself with the comforter and turning his back to Brian.

Brian couldn't tell if the sniffle he heard was just in his head or not.

After a few moments of seriously considering pulling the blond out of bed and hugging him until he wasn't he couldn't breathe, he crept into the bathroom and got ready for bed as well. After a quick shower, he brushed his teeth and changed into his sleepwear before climbing into bed and closing his eyes.

Everything was fine until he heard a small whimper.

"Rog, are you okay?" He sat up, a frown on his face as he looked over to the sleeping man.

"I ruined it."

Brian's heart shattered as he climbed out of bed to peek at his face, seeing his tear stained cheeks and quivering bottom lip.

"Rog, wake up..." Brian said softly, shaking his shoulder lightly as a few more whimpers escaped his lips.

"Don't leave... Stay, please." His words were slurred, sleepiness fogging his brain. "Brian..."

"Roger, wake up!" Both of Brian's hands were gripping his shoulders and lifting him up slightly.

The blond opened his eyes and stared at Brian above him, tears running down his cheeks freely.

"Oh, Rog..." Brian frowned softly.

That was all it took for the smaller man to launch himself into Brian's arms, clinging onto him like he was his life line.

"I don't want to fight anymore." Roger said quietly, sniffling. "I just don't want you to hate me."

"I don't hate you..."

"Then why'd you ignore me? Why do you keep avoiding me all the time?" Roger pulled away, looking at him with his doe eyes still glistening with unshed tears. "Why, Brian?"

It was the perfect moment. The perfect time to come clean and admit his feelings. Tell Roger that he is so hopelessly, desperately, madly in love with him that he didn't know what else to do.

But he didn't.

"Stress. I'm sorry, Rog. I've been dealing with a lot and...I never meant to upset you." Brian swallowed, standing up from the bed and moving towards his own. "Goodnight, Rog. It's late."

"Yeah, goodnight." Roger muttered, pulling the blanket up to his chest. "Bri?"

"Hm?" Brian paused his movements, turning to look at the now-calm drummer sat up in bed with his knees to his chest and bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

"I..." Roger sighed softly, shaking his head as he seemingly decided against his words. "Nothing. Sleep well." He said, sinking down into the bed before turning away from him and allowing himself to drift off.

He didn't say another word the whole night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_ **A Few Weeks Later** _

"I think I'm going to head back to the hotel a bit early tonight."

John, Freddie, and Brian turned to see the blond standing up from the barstool as he backed away from the hotel bar, glaring directly past Brian at a woman that was beside him.

"You're turning in early? Are you sick? Possessed? A clone?" Freddie stood up and began examining him, earning a few slaps on his hands and an angry scowl.

"Stop it. I'm just tired, alright?" Roger grumbled, turning on his heel before making his way up the stairs.

"What's up with him?" John frowned, setting his drink down.

"Your friend seems upset."

Brian turned to the woman that was sat next to him, the same one that had been touching his arm and making (unsuccessful) passes at him for the past hour. Brian, the gentleman he was, just smiled and tried to brush her off. Ever-persistent, she wouldn't bugger off even if someone came at her with a semi-truck at 160 kph!

"I'm sorry, Julie, I should go talk to him." Brian stood up, quietly excusing himself from the bar only to be met with a drink to the face.

"My name is Jasmine, you bastard!" She shouted, the other three men stared at her with confused looked before she got up and stormed away.

"Well, that was uncalled for." John snorted, throwing his drink back.

"Darling, I love you dearly, but that was the funniest shit I've ever seen." Freddie finally broke into laughter, earning an eye roll from the guitarist.

"I'm gonna go talk to Roger." Brian sighed, wiping the alcohol from his eyes. It burned and Brian felt that he didn't actually deserve the damn thing thrown in his face for something as silly as not remembering a strangers name. It didn't matter, the girl was gone and now he could go check on Roger.

"Go and get your boyfriend, Bri." Freddie smirked at Brian's blushing face.

"Don't be too loud, are rooms are adjoining tonight." John added in as Brian rolled his eyes.

"He's not denying it! Deaky, Deaky, he's not denying it!" Freddie damn near squealed in the middle of the pub.

"Denied." Brian rolled his eyes, turning around as Freddie wolf whistled and John giggled. Such instigators.

Brian sighed, picking at his nails for the entire ride up the lift. He smelt like some type of fruity drink mixed with vodka, and he white shirt was stained a bright red. He didn't mind much, all he wanted to do was make sure Roger was okay. He seemed fine up until Julia- erm, Jasmine began touching all over him.

Wait, was he...jealous?

Brian scoffed and rolled his eyes. That couldn't be it. Why would Roger be jealous? He shook his head, he was being ridiculous!

With a sigh, he opened up the door. Roger was sitting on the bed, head in hands until the door clicked shut, causing his head to snap up.

"What the hell happened to you?" Roger frowned, standing up to examine is wet hair and shirt.

"That girl next to me wouldn't leave me alone, I accidentally called her the wrong name so she threw her drink in my face." Brian sighed, looking down at his stained shirt.

"She looked like a bitch. You could do better." Roger shrugged nonchalantly.

"I hardly noticed her until you left, really." Brian admitted. He'd been distracted by the blond, who seemed distracted by the girl. "You seemed interested in her, I saw you staring."

"No, no. I most definitely was not." Roger scoffed, standing up from the bed. "If anything, I wanted her to go away." He muttered, making his way to the bathroom.

"But why? She wasn't doing anything." Brian followed behind him, watching him curiously. Truthfully, Brian wanted her to leave as well, but Roger didn't have much of a reason to want her to leave.

"I...She had an annoying face and it pissed me off." He shrugged, trying to go into the bathroom. Brian shut the door before he could get in. "What the hell, Bri? I have to pee!"

"What's the real reason?" Brian asked, staring down at him. He just needed to confirm his suspicions, if he was right he'd tell Roger how he feels.

"Now you're pissing me off." Roger glared up at him, pushing past him and quickly shutting and locking the door.

So much for getting into that conversation.

Brian sighed, moving over to his suitcase and getting out of his clothes. As he was getting into his pajamas, he wondered if he should just confess. Get it over with and hope he doesn't ruin anything in the long run.

He shook his head and sat back on the bed. He couldn't risk losing him all together, it was best to just stay quiet.

Roger eventually came out of the bathroom, flopping down on his bed with a grunt. "Are you done being a prick?"

"I'm not being a-"

"So that's a no." Roger rolled his eyes, crawling under the covers and turning his back to the guitarist.

Brian sighed, reaching over to turn the light off. He found himself waiting until Rogers breathing evened out to let his eyes fall shut.

"Jealous..."

Brian's eyes opened again, looking over at the lump that was Roger on the other bed.

"It's okay, Rog, just sleep." Brian sighed, biting at his lip.

"M' jealous, Bri..." Roger muttered, rolling over to face Brian. For a moment, Brian thought he might've been awake, that was until his saw his eyes were shut and he was drooling slightly. "M' better than her..."

Brian sat up with a frown. Why would he be jealous of that woman? In what possible way could he be? It made no sense!

"Brian." Rogers sleep-dazed voice called out to him. "I'm. Better."

"You are, Rog. Please, shhh, we can talk about this in the morning." Brian said nervously. He'd talked to Brian in his sleep before, many times, but usually mumbled out apologies or just random tidbits from conversations earlier in the day. This was serious.

"Hmm." Roger hummed, curling up tighter with the blanket. His face was scrunched up with what Brian could only see as sadness.

"Why don't you love me?"

The words damn near broke his hard. They were spoken in such a soft broken whisper, quiet as a wisp of wind. By god it sounded as if he was awake.

"Brian, why don't you love me like I love you?" Roger whimpered, a soft sniffle filling the dead silent room

Brian had enough, he stood from his bed and scooped the blond in for a hug, feeling the warm tears against his neck. "Wake up, Rog..."

He felt him stir in his arms, a soft groan escaping his mouth. "Brian?..."

"You were crying in your sleep." Brian said, pulling away from the hug to look down at him.

"I-I had a nightmare." Roger replied quietly, staring down at his lap. He could feel his cheeks heating up as he knew Brian's eyes were on him.

"You said you loved me, Rog..." Brian watched his face drop. The blond moved away from him, a panicked expression sinking in.

"B-Bri, I-"

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm not upset." Brian bit his lip, thinking over his next words. "Is it true? Do you really love me?"

Roger looked up at him, wrapping his arms tightly around himself before nodding softly. In his eyes, Brian saw fear, sadness, and dread. It tore him apart to think he made the blond feel this way.

“I do...” Roger spoke softly, looking smaller than Brian had ever seen him look before. “I’m sorry, Brian, I-I can get over it. Please, don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me for loving you.” He said quickly, grabbing Brian’s arm in a last final attempt to keep him from running away.

“I don’t want you to get over it, Rog.” Brian smiled down at him, taking the shaking hand the was grabbing his arm and enveloping it in his. “I could never hate you, not now - not ever.”

“What are you saying?” Rogers eyes met his, confused blue eyes slightly dazed with sleep.

“I mean that I love you too, Rog.” He smiled, bringing a hand up to the blonds cheek.

“Is this a dream?” Roger blurted out, staring at him with wide eyes. “Brian, is this a dream- Ah, fuck!” He slapped away the hand that pinched him.

“Not a dream.” Brian grinned, grabbing his hand once more.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Roger groaned out before grabbing the collar of Brian’s shirt and pulling him close, slamming their lips together in a moment of complete passion.

Yes, it was four am. Yes, they were extremely exhausted. But no, they didn’t care at all.

“Just so you know, you talk a lot in your sleep.” Brian said cheekily, grinning down at the blond who rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.”

And then he kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't sure about this one, got the idea a month ago when I was listening to the song. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought, I always love reading comments! Even if you thought it was shit, you can tell me!
> 
> Peace ✌🏻


	7. I’ll Be Home For Christmas

_1977_

The roads were terrible. The radio broadcasters voice echoed through the silent house, ringing in the sad, sad news. A simple look out the window was enough to know: he wouldn't be home for Christmas.

Roger sighed, shutting the radio off and putting a record on his turntable as he watched the snow fall. It never snowed this much, not this early. December 24th was nearly over already and the roads were icy, snowy, and wet.

His hope was as dead as the fire that had burned out an hour before, the simmering embers just barely holding that red glow.

Roger sat back with a heavy sigh. No one wants to be alone on the holidays, but here he was, sat in front of the tiny tree, decorated with twinkling lights and a few colorful ornaments. He found himself staring at the record player as Frank Sinatra's mellifluous voice filled his ears, his eyes slowly drifting back to the frosted window.

John and Freddie had been over earlier, both with their partners on the arms. Ronnie was heavily pregnant, glowing as she held their four year old son, John looking happier than ever with an arm draped around her. Freddie wasn't far from that, his new boyfriend was attached at the hip and he'd even brought his new kitten, Tiffany, that Mary had gotten him.

He was happy to see his friends, of course! And he was glad to see how happy they were with their current lives.

But he couldn't help but feel a bit blue. No one wanted to be alone for the holidays, and he even felt alone in a crowded room. He smiled through it, accepting the little tray of food Veronica made for him and gave him with a sad smile.

_"He'll come." She said, placing a small hand on his own._

_"He hasn't even called." Roger had replied, barely containing the shakiness of his voice._

It'd been a week since Brian had left for his parents house. A week since the fight. A week since he's last seen that little fanged smile he loved so much.

A week without the love of his life. And now he was going to spend Christmas alone.

He sighed as he tried to push the memory of the pitiful glances out of his mind. Of course they all felt bad, Freddie's new boyfriend even said 'sorry for your loss', which was a bit amusing as he'd definitely misread the room.

He wasn't a widower, he was just a dumbass who pissed off his boyfriend too much.

He said his quiet goodbyes to the Deacon's first, as they needed to get home in time to get little Robert down to sleep and set the presents out. Freddie followed soon after as it was getting quite late and the roads were getting bad. It was a regretful departure, but Roger could do without drowning in their pitied smile, tip-toeing around the lack of one specific person.

His family wasn't an option. His father was off with his new family, his mother was on holiday with her new husband, and Clare was off on holiday with her boyfriend of three years. Each one happy, no one alone. No one besides the twenty-six year old blond left behind in the heart of London, staring at the damn blizzard outside.

Roger pressed his cheek against the cold glass, watching as it fogged up with the hot breaths falling from his lips. A tear slowly slid down his cheek as the memories flooded back.

How could he have been so dense? So stupid? He'd taken the best thing in his life and thrown it away all over some silly argument. Some stupid, stupid thing. Seven years all gone because Roger's fucking temper.

_"You're being dramatic, Bri." Roger rolled his eyes, walking away from the scowling man._

_"Come on, Rog, I'm not being dramatic! Can't we at least talk about this?" Brian grabbed his wrist, turning him around. "It's worth talking about."_

_"No, it's not. It's not worth talking about. It's never going to happen, not now and not ever." Roger pulled his wrist away. "You've made up your mind. This relationship isn't important to you."_

_"I'd like it to." Brian voice was near shaking."I want to tell my parents hell, I'd tell the world, I would. But...I can't. I don't want to hide anymore, but...we have to."_

_"Well then maybe you should be with a woman. If you're so tired of hiding, if your fathers opinion means that fucking much to you. Isn't that what you want? Daddy's approval?" Roger snapped back, a petulant mocking tone to his voice. He knew he didn't mean the venomous words, he knew it was just words spat in the heat of the moment. He knew Brian struggled with his sexuality due to his fathers qualms with homosexuality. How scared Brian was to lose his relationship with his father. Roger knew this. He knew this and he said...that._

_God, he knew he made a mistake._

_They stared at each other with wide, tearful eyes. Roger's mouth hung open, apologies ghosting his lips. The taller man let his gaze drop to the floor._

_"That's not what I want." Brian whispered, his hands clenched into shaking fists at his side._

_"Bri, I-"_

_"I-I'm going to my parents tonight." Brian said, his voice steady as he pushed past the blond. "I just... I can't look at you right now."_

_Roger could only watch with trembling lips as Brian walked out the door that night, bag in hand. No goodbye, he didn't even look at the blond._

_He just left, and Roger couldn't help be feel deserving of it._

Roger clenched his jaw as the tears poured from his eyes. The more he thought of it, the more it hurt. Those words, the image of his best friend, the love of his life, walking out the door...because of him. It was burned in the back of his mind, forever scarred.

He was scared of losing the realest thing he'd ever had. So scared that he went and threw it out in the cold.

There was nobody but himself to blame. Using fear to fight fear only ended in chaos, he'd used Brian's biggest fear to fight his own and now he had to face the fire.

Brian was gone and it was his fault.

The twinkling lights below shined warmly as the clock struck midnight. Christmas was here and he was alone. The first Christmas since 1970 that he'd been alone, without Brian holding him tight. Without Brian smiling and wishing him a merry Christmas.

Without Brian just...being there.

Silently, he pulled a blanket around him, pressing himself further into the couch as the blizzard raged on. He thought back to the Christmases from the years before. The mistletoe kisses, eggnog flavored lips pressed together as their friends laughed. He thought back to the laughter ringing through their home, the warm nights in bed, the feeling of safety just being beside each other.

The happiness. The perfection. The...everything.

Being open was dangerous, he knew that. He was just frustrated and it led to...well, to that fight. That bloody fight one week ago. He'd hide forever if that fight could just be forgotten. If he could just take back those words. If they could just be okay again.

_I'll be home for Christmas_

_You can plan on me_

Roger sniffled as the song filled the small lounge. He got up from the couch and began walking towards the record player. Brian wouldn't be home for Christmas. He couldn't plan on him.

_Please have snow and mistletoe_

_And presents by the tree_

He paused, staring down at the record before looking outside. The snow was illuminated by the streetlights. Sparkling in the peaceful night. The blizzard had finally slowed to a soft sprinkling.

Brian had always talked about how nice a white Christmas would be. They hadn't had one in years, it was something he'd dreamed of. 

"I guess his dream's coming true." Roger whispered to himself as he gazed at the glittering snow.

_Christmas eve will find me_

_Where the love light gleams_

_I'll be home for Christmas_

_If only in my dreams_

Moving down to his knees, he rested his forehead against the table. Christmas Eve found him lonely and surrounded by sympathetic eyes. No doubt Christmas Day would be the same.

_I'll be home for Christmas_

_~If only in my dreams~_

The melody faded out, the blond quickly taking the needle off the record and hugging the record to his chest with a choked sob. The mistake hurt so damn bad.

He stumbled over to the phone as fast as he could, grabbing it off the receiver and dialing the number he knew so well over the years.

Brian's parents.

He couldn't go one more moment without hearing that soft voice. Not a single second longer. He bit his lip as the phone continued to ring.

No one answered.

Roger tried to push away the disappointment rising in his chest as he hung up the phone. He hung his head as well, tears pouring from his eyes. He figured he might as well go to sleep, no sense in being awake and alone. It was easier to sleep and be numb to all but his dreams.

Tossing the record aside, he began trudging towards the bedroom. Defeat pulsed through his veins, each step feeling heavier and heavier until they halted completely.

His attention was caught by an unexpected click of the lock, his gaze was locked on the door immediately as it swung open.

"Rog, I'm so sor-"

It only took half a second for the blond to cross the room, launching himself into the arms of the person he loved more than anything.

"I'm sorry, Brimi." His voice trembled, glossy eyes drifting up to see the sad smile stretched across trembling lips.

"Me too." Brian cupped his cheek, pressing their foreheads together. "I told my parents. It's okay, Rog. They're okay."

Roger smiled the tears flowing steadily from his eyes. "It's okay?"

"They love me still." Brian sniffled, huffing a tearful laugh.

The smaller man pulled him closer, burying his face in his shoulder and breathing him in. One week without him was like a thousand years without rain, and now it was a torrential downpour of pure love.

"They'd be crazy not to." Roger smiled, lifting his head to gaze up at him.

Brian returned the smile, dipping his head down just enough to brush their noses together. "I'm sorry I left."

"You're back now, that's what's important." Roger's gaze remained on the hazel eyes he'd missed. "Just in time for Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Roggie." Brian shook his head, his cold hands moving up to cup Rogers warm cheeks. Slowly, he pressed his slightly chapped lips against the damp ones in a soft kiss. The longing was clear, though the kiss remained gentle until the pulled away.

"Merry Christmas, Bri." Roger whispered softly, their lips brushing lightly against each other as their smiled widened.

Brian was home for Christmas, right where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long absence! I had the flu and basically died for a bit along with just being super busy. I finally recovered from the flu, got slapped with Christmas spirit a week after Christmas was over, so I slammed this little number out! 
> 
> Lmao it's 4am on New Years Eve and I'm putting out a Christmas chapter...and then another Christmas chapter for another fic is coming soon. Whoops!
> 
> Anyway! Hope y'all like it!
> 
> Peace ✌🏻


	8. Anytime At All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from @Happieness2001! 
> 
> Title and overall theme is from the Beatles song Anytime At All!

It was an honest mistake. Time seemed to slip right from their grasps as the tour went on, he hardly remembered how his days let alone to remember to do specific things.

Brian had told him over and over again to get the flu jab, prevent it before it could get the chance to get into his system. He meant to, he really did! But he also wasn't great with remembering to make appointments, and he had better things to do than to sit in a drab old clinic to get the jab.

Roger regretted his entire life up to his current state of being.

He woke up at four am, shivering as if he'd just stepped off into the arctic and the room didn't feel to far off from it despite the heavy duvet currently covering him and the hot body next to him.

As he became more conscious, the body aches became more apparent. The dull aches spread throughout his body as he let out a low groan. It wasn't long before the aches turned to nausea and he was soon crawling out of bed and rushing to the toilet. His stomach churned as he fell to his knees in front of the porcelain bowl, his hands shaking as he threw the lid open and emptied last nights dinner into the toilet.

Any feeble attempts at not waking Brian had failed as he wretched loudly into the toilet, soon feeling a soothing hand rubbing his back.

"If you're gonna say 'I told you so', please save it until the morning." Roger groaned, leaning his forehead against the cool porcelain. It felt amazing against his feverish skin. The good feeling faded as another wave of nausea hit him. Of course he'd get nausea as a symptom too, just his luck.

"I didn't say that." Brian sighed, standing up and rummage through the medicine cabinet. Soon enough he pulled out the thermometer and sat patiently as Roger blew his nose and wiped his mouth.

"Thinkin' it." He mumbled, wiping his eyes before facing his boyfriend. "I don't feel good."

"I wasn't," Brian's sighed, cupping the miserable mans face with a sympathetic frown. "I know, Rog. Let's get your temperature, then we can brush your teeth and I'll draw you a bath." Brian pushed the blond strands out of his face with a sympathetic smile.

Roger nodded, opening his mouth as Brian slipped the glass pipe under his tongue. He watched the the mercury slowly rose up to nearly 40°C (104°F). Roger watched as Brian frowned softly at him.

"My poor baby." He cooed, pulling him against his chest as Roger shivered. He shakily squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush, looking up at Brian with groggy eyes.

"I really don't feel good, Bri..." His voice came out a choked whine. He hadn't felt this bad in ages.

"I know, love, I know." Brian sighed, kissing his hot forehead before standing up and turning the bath tap on. He set the water to lukewarm to cool his fever before plugging the drain and grabbing one of their fluffiest towels (and Rogers favorite towel, at that). He knew the blond would need it, hoping that he'd forgive him for the cool bath he was about to endure.

Roger slowly stripped down after finishing brushing his teeth, letting his pajamas fall to the ground before stepping into the bath. Brian expected cursing, screaming, basically any form of an angry reaction at the temperature of the water.

It nearly shattered his heart when all that came was a whimper.

He watched helplessly as the blond submerged himself fully, shivering with glassy eyes. He was pale besides the slight rosiness of his cheeks due to the fever. Roger gripped his hand, resting his cheek on it as his body shook. He was miserable, nothing that Brian did really mattered, anyone could see. The blue of his eyes seemed duller, yet the tears that were slowly rising made them shine.

"I'm sorry, baby. We've just got to get that temperature down." Brian said, pushing his damp hair out of his face as Roger nodded pathetically.

"Bri, 'm sorry..." Roger mumbled, leaning out of the bath and pressing himself against the taller man to the best of his ability. Brian didn't mind that he had soaked his entire shirt.

"It's okay, Rog. Just sit down, okay?" He guided the blond down and massaged he scalp until the water turned ice cold.

Brian then grabbed one to the bath towels, a larger one that Roger had impulse bought as it was 'the softest fucking thing he'd ever felt'. Brian had thought it was ridiculously priced for a plain towel, and he though it was even more ridiculous when the blond had Freddie stitch a picture of his car into it.

Despite it all, it was still Rogers favorite towel. Brian helped the sick man up and wrapped his shivering body in the towel and holding him close to him before leading him back to the bedroom.

Brian grabbed out new pajamas for his boyfriend, setting the set on the bed as Roger shakily dried himself off. Brian took the towel from him gently, drying the rest of his body before helping him dress the rest of the way.

Once dressed, Brian gave him a bit of cold and flu medicine and tucked the blond into bed with a kiss on his too-hot forehead before making his way downstairs to make some tea to sooth his throat and stomach.

By the time his tea was made and brought up to him, however; Brian found the blond to be curled up in a ball, fast asleep.

He couldn't help but smile at the peaceful sight, all the misery gone from his boyfriends face leaving a soft and innocent rosy-cheeked face with his lips pouted out. It would be impossible to not smile at a sight like that.

Carefully, he climbed into bed and shut off their side table lamp before laying back and closing his eyes.

"Thank you for taking care o' me..." Roger sleep slurred voice filled the quiet bedroom, the soft tone causing another smile to pull that the guitarists lips.

"Anytime at all."

And he meant it, even when he woke up a few days later with the same damn flu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My classes start in three days and I already want to throw myself in front of a train 
> 
> I actually had the flu a couple weeks ago and lemme tell you, I thought I was dying... 
> 
> That being said: GET YOUR FLU SHOT, EVEN IF ITS THE WRONG STRAIN IT WILL HELP PREVENT IT FOR THE MOST PART
> 
> That ALSO being said, I'm a dumbass and completely forgot to get mine
> 
> Anyway, hope you all liked it! Lemme know if you have any requests :)
> 
> Peace ✌🏻


	9. The Wedding Singer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Mentioned: Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money
> 
> Movie Mentioned: Wedding Singer
> 
> Time Period: modern au
> 
> Written: in a sleepless delirium between 3am-5am

Linen and lace covered the reception hall, too many people crowding the once quaint and quiet place. At least three hundred people in attendance, but what else could be expected from the wedding of non other than Freddie Mercury.

Brian, the quiet introvert he was, simply wanted nothing more than to fade out of existence. A bit hard to do when you're the best man for one of the grooms.

Jim was a great groom, though. His bachelor party was small, but still fun. They ended up just going to the pub for a few rounds before going back to his and Freddie's flat to watch Star Wars.

Freddie's was a drag event.

Brian was conveniently out of town for that party, helping his mother and father with their spring cleaning. Freddie claims that it was the best night of his life (excluding every night with his darling husband) since his best man actually showed up in drag and ended up on stage, then bringing Freddie up along with him.

Brian shook his head at the thought. He had yet to see who this bloke was besides a small glimpse at the actual ceremony, though Freddie had all his groomsmen in vails for whatever reason. Forever the diva, he probably didn't want anyone to outshine him. That was practically impossible since his white suit was covered in golden glitter. He did have his groomsmen in white tuxes, though, as a way to saying "fuck you" to tradition in a very Freddie way. He found himself being brought out of his thoughts by a raspy voice behind him.

"I've never seen anyone look so miserable at a wedding."

Brian quickly turned around to see a shorter man smirking at him. He couldn't help but blush at how the smaller man stared him down.

"N-No, I'm alright. Just, uh, looking for Freddie." He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away from the blonds smirking face.

"Oh, he's off with Jim in the closet over there. I'm meant to be lookout, but I've sent the cameras to go catch them." He snickered putting his hand out to which Brian accepted in a firm handshake. "Roger Taylor, best man and wedding singer tonight. You must be poodle?"

"Brian May." He corrected with a slight eye roll.

"Not with that hair." He joked, looking over his shoulder at the rest of the wedding band waving him over. "I've got to go. Look more alive, Bri, it's a party." He winked before rushing off to the stage.

Call him crazy, but in that second he fell in love with that man.

Brian shook his head, wandering off to find someone to talk to. It didn't take long to find John, though it wasn't what he expected as the man was drinker than ever. It was to be expected since he had just had a baby a month or so prior and it was his and Ronnies first night out as parents.

"This...is great." John slurred, throwing an arm around Brian and swaying him in a bit of a dance. "Isn't if, Brian? So, so great."

"Yes, very great." He chuckled, steadying the man. "Having fun?"

"So much!" Ronnie giggles, steadying herself on the table. "Freddie made sure to have an open bar. An absolute genius!"

"Yes! To Freddie!" John grabbed his glass from the table, nearly dropping it, and raised his glass up just as his wife copied his actions.

"And James!"

"Jim, dear." John corrected, laughing.

"Who?"

The tallest laughed to himself as he heard the band start playing. Brian hardly felt guilty passing the man off to his equally intoxicated wife as the two broke away to tear up the dance floor. He grinned when he saw the cameraman follow them to catch the moment, his grin only widening when he saw it was the blond who tipped them off.

His amusement was short lived when he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a familiar laugh behind him.

"Having fun, Bri?" Freddie asked with a smirk, tearing Brian's gaze away from the stage across the room.

"Y-Yeah. It's great, Fred." Brian clearers his throat, trying to look anywhere other than where the blond was currently standing, waiting to be counted into the song.

The second he began to sing, Brian felt like a seaman hearing a siren for the first time. His eyes snapped over to the stage and he was captivated.

Unfortunately, his cover was blown.

"Hmm, I see you've met Roger." Freddie chuckled. "Or have become infatuated with him, at least. You're far from the first, that man is a bloody work of art. Almost as much as me!"

"I-I just enjoy this song, is all." Brian tried to excuse himself lamely. His words only seemed to encourage the man further.

"He's single, you know. And definitely ready to mingle." Freddie smirked. "I can think of at least a dozen people he'd be willing to take home tonight, Eddie Money style. You know, like the song."

"I know the song, Fred. And I don't take people home from weddings. It's so...cliché." Brian rolled his eyes, pulling himself out of the daze just long enough to catch Rogers eye. He nearly lost it at his smile, and broke out into his own grin when he winked.

"It's my wedding, so I make the rules. I'm a queen, dear, not the slur of course, I'm a damn ruler. And queens are better than kings anyway, everyone knows that. Do you see a king of England? No, because he's dead." The older man cut his ramblings short with a wave of the hand. "Therefore, I declare it not cliché."

"The two best men going home together isn't a good look." Brian argued weakly, truth be told, his eyes were locked on the blond on stage.

"A man who wears wood blocks on his feet has no right to say what is a good look or not." Freddie snorted, shaking his head. "Let loose, Darling."

“Now, last song of the night. Better make it a good one!” Freddie gave him a slap on the ass before rushing over to the stage with a Cheshire grin. He managed to pull the blond aside when the previous had song ended and said something into his ear that made Roger smirk. Chuckling, he turned to the rest of the band and relayed the song request.

It was never good when Freddie requested a song.

As they began playing the intro, Brian's face began to burn and he quickly covered it with his hands to mask the embarrassment. Of course Freddie would ask them to play this song.

Pulling his hands away, he looked up at the stage just as Roger belted out the chorus to 'Take Me Home Tonight' by Eddie Money. He swore he made eye contact when he sang that line in particular, and his suspicions were proved with wink and a sly smirk.

Was it even legal to be that perfect?

No! What was he thinking?! He hardly knew the bloke! He could be a mass murdering perv that has served serious jail time for...abusing animals!

Now he was overthinking it, overreacting to what was probably just Freddie messing with him. Roger was probably just winking at a pretty girl behind him, that made more sense. That was until Brian turned around to see Jim's great-grandmother behind him looking more dead than alive with bits of food on the corners of her mouth, which hung wide open as she stared straight ahead.

Brian looked back up at the stage, shaking his thoughts from the fossil of a woman behind him. She had to be over a hundred years old.

When another wink was thrown in his direction, he hesitantly pointed at himself, mouthing "me?"

The blond only huffed a laugh into the microphone before carrying on with the song. Roger couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. He’d just hoped Freddie was right about this guy. He’d never steered him wrong before.

...that was a lie, but you get the point!

After finishing the song, they said their goodbyes to the dancers and guests before separating off stage. Brian was collecting his coat after seeing Freddie and Jim off and saying a quick goodbye to the overly intoxicated Deacon’s when he heard a throat clear behind him.

“You know that American movie with that guy that does all the voices?” The singer asked, a bright grin on his face.

“There’s a lot of those movies.” Brian turned around, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“The Wedding Singer.” Roger chuckled.

“Isn’t that the one where the wedding singer steals away the bride?” Brian began putting on his jacket, buttoning it up at they began walking towards the exit.

“No brides at this wedding, but I figured I’d settle for the best man.” Roger smirked as they approached Brian’s car. Pulling a small piece of paper out of his pocket, he added, “You don’t have to take me home tonight, but how does dinner sound tomorrow night? Then maybe you’ll change your mind.”

Brian stared at him slack-jawed for a moment before nodding, his cheeks heating up as he took the slip of paper. He’d expected his phone number, but he’d actually written his address as well.

“Pick me up at seven then?” Rogers smile only widened.

“Yeah, yeah. Seven, sounds perfect.” Brian nodded, looking up from the paper as Roger took a step closer.

“Can’t wait.” He grinned, leaning up to peck his cheek before turning and walking to his own car, leaving the curly-haired man in a state of shock.

“Me neither.” He mumbled to himself, getting into the drivers seat and shutting the door. The whole drive home, a lovesick grin was spread across his face.


	10. Wisdom

"I can't feel my legs!"

Seven in the morning. It was seven in the goddamn morning, which wouldn't have been as bad if it weren't for a certain blond haired drummer keeping him up all night.

Granted, the reason for the stalled sleep was his nerves, but it was only a dental surgery. He was only getting his wisdom teeth pulled, it really wasn't a big deal. It was as risky as sitting in a padded room with a blanket wrapped around your arms.

That didn't stop Roger from panicking at an astronomical level.

"Rog, it's okay, just close your eyes." Brian attempted to sooth, but the blonds eyes remained panicked. Truth be told, it broke his heart to see him so scared. He ran his hand through the golden strands until his eyes slid shut with a shaky breath.

"It's normal, dear. The medicine is putting your whole body to sleep." The orthodontist, Dr. Stevens, spoke calmly, placing the mask back on the blonds face before looking to the other man. "You can wait in the waiting room. We'll come get you when he's finished."

Brian nodded, watching Roger slip into the drug-induced sleep. The peaceful look on his face was enough to will himself to actually leave the room. He hated leaving him, really, it was almost torture seeing how nervous and scared he was, despite it being a routine procedure.

Upon reaching the waiting room, he sat in the uncomfortable chair and picked at the hangnail on his thumb. All he could do was wait for the blond to come out of surgery.

•

•

•

One hour had passed before he finally woke up. Blurry eyed and confused, the young man finally sat up in the dentist chair.

"Good morning, Mr. Taylor." The dentist greeted with a pleasant smile. "Would you like me to get your friend now?"

He nodded gently, his eyes drooping as he tried to open them enough to look around the room.

"And what is his name?"

"Roger." He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his hands curled up into loose fists.

"No, dear, that's your name." She laughed, setting her pen down as she approached the chair. "Your friend that brought you in today?"

A blank look covered his face as he stared up at her. "Uhh... His name is Brain."

"Brain?" She repeated back as the young man began giggling to himself. She cursed herself for not getting the mans name before the surgery.

"He's smart. Big brain." Roger nodded, his words muffled greatly by the gauze shoved into his mouth. "Gonna be a spaceman, visit all the space badgers."

"Well, I'll go ahead and get him." She patted his shoulder before making her way out to the waiting room. "For Roger Taylor?"

The tall man shot out of his seat and she could hardly contain her smile. They were definitely more than friends with a reaction like that.

"Is he alright?" He asked quickly upon reaching her, looking down at her with concern etched into his face.

"He's great, no complications at all. A bit loopy at the moment, but as you know, that's to be expected." She explained over her shoulder as she lead him back to the room.

"So he's not in any pain?" Brian pressed, the dentist only laughing softly and shaking her head.

"We gave him the good stuff, he can't feel a thing." She said, opening up the door to reveal the blond who was staring at the wall with drool dripping down his chin.

A few cautious steps later, Brian was stood in front of the drooling blond with a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, Roggie." He said, smiling when the blond finally looked up at him. "How're you feeling?"

"I feel so good, Bri, I feel like a bird." Roger grinned, his eyes drooping as spoke in muffled words.

"That good, love." Brian chuckled, looking back to the dentist who had a similar look of amusement on her face.

"Gotta fly, Bri," Roger leaned forward and grabbed at Brian's arm. "Take me to the...building top, uh...roof! I wanna jump and flyyyy!"

His balance was off by a lot, causing the younger man to slip back into his previous supine position. Brian could only let out a nervous laugh. He was genuinely concerned he might try to leap from the roof!

"How about we start with walking, hm?" Dr. Stevens suggested, watching the young man nod with a small grin. "Alright, let's get both of your feet to one side of the chair."

Roger stared at her for a moment, seemingly processing her words before giving a curt nod and beginning to try her instructions.

Staring into her eyes, he planted his feet on either side of the chair, effectively straddling it before nearly tipping forward. Brian caught him just before he could face-plant, pushing him back into the chair with a patient sigh.

"Let me help you." He chuckled, gently moving his legs to the same side and taking his hands to pull him up.

He couldn't keep a straight face as the blond began giggling to himself. It was almost like he was drunk, but he sounded so much more innocent, as if he was five instead of twenty-five.

"Brimi, you're so strong!" Roger grabbed at his arms before gasping. "They're so long..."

"Rog, please work with me here." Brian struggled as Roger became dead weight in his arms.

"Mmm, I don't wanna." Rogers muffled voice was cut short with childish giggles. "Carry me, I demand it!"

Brian sighed, there was no possible way he was going to win this battle. Bracing himself, he picked him up, grunting at the sudden weight in his arms. Roger wasn't heavy, but Brian really wasn't all that strong.

"Brian, if a poodle, a clog, and a horse had a baby... that's what you be, okay?" Roger looked up at him, his eyebrows raised as if he just told him the worlds most hidden secret.

"Okay, Rog." Brian chuckled, struggling with the exit door before cautiously making his way outside. The car was just within sight, but Roger wouldn't stop wiggling. "You've got to stay still, love. I don't want to drop you on the pavement."

"Don't let go, Bri!" Rogers panicked voice came loudly, his hands finding their way to his hair before tugging aggressively. "I'm holding on!"

It took everything inside him to not drop the younger man. The tugging was painful enough to make his eyes water just ever so slightly.

"Gentle, Rog, please."

"Shhhhh, it's okay." Roger let go of his hair and began to pet it gently. "Shhh."

It was better than the hair pulling, Brian figured.

It didn't take too long to cross the parking lot to get to his car, quickly unlocking it and getting Roger into the front seat.

"Okay, can you put your seatbelt on?" Brian pointed at the belt, his free hand resting on his hip when the blond shook his head.

"No! I wanna be freeeee! You can't...strap me in! I gotta go!" Roger attempted get out of the car, Brian quickly pushing him back in.

"Don't you want to go home?"

Roger looked at him with wide eyes, his head tilted to the side before nodding.

"Okay, mum." He muttered, lifting his arms up. "Buckle me!"

The older man rolled his eyes, leaning into the car to buckle the seatbelt, gently pushing his arms down afterwards. "Ready to go?"

"Ready, Freddie!" Roger snickered before gasping. "Where's Freddie?!"

"He's at his house, Rog." Brian answered him, sighing when his bottom lip popped out into a pout in a purely childish fashion. It was cute, but his mouth was also slightly bloody which took away a lot of the cute factor. He almost looked like he belongs in a horror movie, from the nose down at least.

"I miss him..."

"You saw him last night, love..." Brian tried to sooth as he got into the drivers seat, but the drugs had taken the better part of Rogers emotional stability and the blond began sobbing into his hands.

Brian had seen Roger cry before a few times, but it never failed to break his heart, even if it was drug induced. He tried to think of a solution, anything to make him feel better.

"Want to call him?"

It seemed to help as Rogers head shot up and he grinned, the gauze poking out of his mouth.

"Right now?" He asked, all tears forgotten as his mood improved completely.

"As soon as we get home." Brian nodded as he finally started the car. The drive was silent for maybe two minutes before Roger began humming the Village People to himself rather loudly.

Brian glanced over at him, the feeling of amusement only growing when the blond began singing aloud, though he was mixing up a lot of the lyrics, skipping lines and such.

"Young man! There's no need to get down!" Roger pokes at Brian's arm, a large grin on his face. "YMCA! Bri, Bri, do you know what YMCA stands for?"

"Uh, young men's Christian association, I think." Brian chuckled when he heard the younger man scoff.

"Nooo!" He mumbled, huffing a breath. "It mean you're my bestest friend, obviously!"

"Those aren't the right letters, Rog."

The offended look on his face was almost enough to send Brian into hysterics, the older of the two struggling to maintain his composure.

"I'm sorry, Rog. I was just kidding. You're right, that's exactly what it stands for." He gave in, a few breathy chuckles escaping his mouth.

Roger seemed happy with Brian's confirmation, a grin finding its way back on his face. It didn't last long; however, because the piece of gauze fell from his mouth to his lap and the semi-quiet atmosphere in the car was filled with a horrified gasp.

"What's wrong, love?" Brian looked over, thankful for the red light he was currently stopped at. His gaze was met with the terrified, tearful expression of the blond, the bloodied piece of gauze cradled in his hands.

"Brimi, my heart fell out..." Roger turned his tear-filled eyes to Brian whose heart nearly shattered at the sight.

"Oh, Roger, that's not your heart." Brian gave him a comforting smile, hoping to defuse what looked like another sobbing session. "That's just your gauze, way too small to be your heart. It's okay, just put it back in your mouth."

He saw the light turn green once more and drove passed the traffic light, a feeling of relief coming over him as he saw their flat enter into his sight.

Rogers eyes widened, he looked down to the gauze in his hand and shook his head. "No, it's my tongue. They took my tongue out!"

"Baby, no. Your tongue is right there in your mouth." Brian glanced over at him, watching Roger cautiously stick his tongue out and cause the other piece of gauze to fall out into his lap.

It was then that he screamed.

"It fell out again! Brimi! My tongue!" Roger wailed, his horrified eyes locked into the bloody gauze pads. "Put it back! Put it back!"

Brian pressed the gas down and sped down the street, swinging into his parking spot in front of the flat and throwing the car in park. In a split second, Roger was clinging to him in pure terror.

"How...how can I eat, Brian?! It's gone!" Roger was hysterical, his slurred speech only getting worse as he worked himself up.

As soon as Roger let go, about five minutes later, Brian pulled the visor down to reveal the mirror, gently taking Rogers chin and opening to mouth to show that his tongue was very much in tact.

"See, Rog? Just gauze, not your heart and not your tongue." Brian said, his hand falling away from his chin as he watched the blond melt back into his dazed state.

"Oh." Roger stuffed the gauze back into his cheeks and grinned. "Whoopsies!" He laughed and Brian reminded himself that he loved him no matter what, even if he had crazy mood swings.

"Let's get you inside, yeah?" Brian quickly got out of the car, jogging over to the passenger seat to collect the strung out blond.

"Wait... lemme fly." Roger pushes away Brian's attempt at helping him up, spreading his arms out before tipping forward, Brian catching him just in time before he hit the asphalt. "Woah, I flew so high, Bri. Did you see that?"

Who was he to tear Rogers dreams apart?

"Higher than the planes, babe." Brian chuckled, wrapping an arm around him to keep him steady. "Let's go lay down, okay?"

"Brimi, you're so sweet." Roger grinned, poking his nose and giggling. "Sweet like cheese!"

He's confused, but he definitely had the spirit!

"Thanks, Rog." Brian shook his head, his grin only widening as they entered their flat.

"Hey, hey... I got a question for you, mate." Rogers face was suddenly very serious, grabbing the wall for support. "Look into my eyes and see me, okay?"

"Okay, what's your question?" Brian crossed his arms casually, watching the blond take a deep breath.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

"Oh, Rog. You're really gone, huh?" Brian chuckled a bit and shook his head. "We've been married for a year."

The shocked look on his face was almost too much, the wide smile that broke out on his face warmed Brian's heart entirely.

"Shit, when did that happen!" Roger laughed, stumbling to him and falling into him. "Lucky me!"

The innocence sparking in his blue eyes was definitely a sight to see from the mischievous man, Brian couldn't help but find it endearing. With a smile, Brian was finally able to get Roger into their bed to rest before going to the kitchen to get him something to eat.

"Brimi, I love you." Roger looked up as Brian entered the room once more, a pudding cup in hand.

"I love you too." Brian smiled, giving him the pudding and watching as he got the chocolate flavored treat all over his face.

He just wished he had a video camera to capture the sweet sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First update since April lol
> 
> Slightly based on my own experience getting my wisdom teeth out, but instead of being sweet to a boyfriend, I terrorized my sister, yelled at a car that ran a red light, and claimed to have discovered the Hidden Valley (I don't even know)
> 
> Anyway!
> 
> Peace ✌🏻


End file.
